


Poison

by antagon1st



Category: South Park
Genre: Additional warnings in author's note because I don't wanna spoil it, Cheating, Child Neglect, Emotional Manipulation, Heavy Angst, Homophobic Language, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent???, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Unhealthy Relationships, Updating tags as I go, Yikes, craig is a cheating bastard, kenny is a complete dick, some almost-smut but no actual smut, the most problematic crenny fic u ever seen, this is gonna be a mess tbh, who knows i dont
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 67,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antagon1st/pseuds/antagon1st
Summary: When the only stable relationship he’s ever known begins to fall apart, Craig finds himself feeling alone and confused, and questioning whether his life is really one worth living. That is until a certain mysterious, troubled blonde takes an interest in him and gets him all wrapped up in his world, and suddenly... things get a whole lot worse.[Currently on hiatus]





	1. Chapter 1

Boredom. It’s a toxic thing, really. Mix it with a little curiosity, and chaos is pretty much inevitable. When the happiness you’ve always enjoyed turns into just being content; you’re satisfied with life just enough, but your desires aren’t entirely fulfilled. And then before you know it, you start to feel numb, and like maybe something is missing from your once seemingly good life. And that feeling can compel you to do some pretty stupid things. Things that will make you long for the dull life that you once longed to change. If anyone knew that, it was Craig Tucker. But it’s not like he knew what he was getting himself into from the start. If he had, surely he would’ve done things a lot differently. Or perhaps he might've done nothing at all. 

It all started with that feeling. The feeling that yeah, his life was going just fine right now. More than just fine, even. But maybe, _just maybe, he could stand to be just a little bit happier._

As terrible as it sounded, Craig’s boyfriend of two years, Tweek, was starting to annoy him. There was no other, nicer way to put it. Craig loved him. Of course he did. But like what happened with every relationship that wasn’t exactly fresh and brand new anymore; the spark was gone. And perhaps it was Craig’s fault. He didn’t expect any relationship to feel new and exciting forever, especially with the rather disappointing level of effort he had been putting in lately. He knew that he was no longer doing his part. Anyone with eyes could see that Tweek was the only one trying to hold their relationship together.

Sometimes Craig wondered why he was still with Tweek. He questioned whether it was a genuine want for things to work out between them, or if he stayed simply because it was comfortable, and familiar. It was just what he was used to at this point. It was routine, almost. Every kiss, every touch, seemed forced and, well, lacking. Lacking emotion. Lacking passion. Craig hated to admit it but in reality, there was nothing worth sticking around for. Nothing that made their relationship _worth fixing._ All the special moments between them that used to make everything worthwhile; make all of their problems seem so small and irrelevant to the big picture, were now nonexistent. It wasn't the same as it had been during their sophomore year of high school when they had first gotten together, when they would fight over something small and then they would both realize how stupid they were being and apologize, and remind the other how much hey loved them, and then they would kiss and make up and everything was forgiven. And Craig knew that relationships didn't work that way in the real world. He knew that reality would always strike eventually, no matter how much you love someone. People grow up. People change. Things get in the way, and you just have to learn to work through it. He knew all of this. He always had. But of course that didn't stop him from feeling this way; so bored and… _empty._ The chase was no longer worth the prize.

And of course, feeling this way made Craig feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world. He tried everything he could think of to talk himself out of these feelings. He tried so hard to convince himself that maybe, he just needed some time to think. Maybe if he distanced himself, he would find himself missing Tweek and realize that what they had was just as good as it had always been, and when he came back, everything would be okay again. And that’s why on this particular Thursday, when Tweek caught up with him outside after school and asked to hang out, Craig declined.

“W-why not?” The blonde stuttered nervously in response. He was still just the same as he had always been; addicted to caffeine and constantly trembling and on-edge.

“I'm busy,” Craig made up an excuse on the spot, “homework. Lots. Sorry,” he didn't even make eye contact with his boyfriend, afraid that he might give in if he did.

“You never have time for me anymore,” Tweek sighed sadly, his eyes falling to focus on the ground as he walked next to Craig, who wanted to punch himself in the face repeatedly for making Tweek feel this way. But he didn't know how to fix it. He didn't want to lie to Tweek, or himself.

Craig stopped walking and placed a hand on Tweek’s shoulder. It was meant to be comforting, or reassuring, or _something,_ but it wasn't. The shorter boy didn't even react to his touch. It didn't make him feel better, nor did it make him feel worse. It didn't make him feel anything. “Look, Tweek, I'm sorry,” Craig spoke. There was hardly any sincerity in his voice. Any trace of it that was there sounded forced. Because it was. “I'll call you later, alright?”

“Okay,” Tweek nodded, not taking his eyes off the ground, “I love you.”

Craig didn't say it back; just smiled weakly and nodded. Tweek sighed, a bit angrily but he mostly just seemed hurt, and then he walked away without another word. Now it was Craig’s turn to sigh as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the lighter and pack of cigarettes that he always kept handy. He lit one up and leaned up against the wall of the school before taking a rather long drag, noticing the ‘no smoking’ sign hanging on the wall next to him and deciding that he didn't care. He closed his eyes and exhaled, tilting his head back and nearly hitting it on the wall behind him. _I deserve to get my head bashed into the goddamn wall,_ he thought to himself before letting out another sigh.

“What’s got you down, Tucker?” Craig heard a familiar voice ask from somewhere to his right. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the other male’s presence; Kenny McCormick. He turned to face Kenny, but the blonde did not do the same to him. His eyes stared straight ahead, not focused on anything in particular. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips.

“What’s got you interested, McCormick?” Craig raised an eyebrow at him, though the other male still hadn’t bothered making eye-contact with him. Kenny wasn't someone that Craig, or anybody for that matter, ever saw much much of. He rarely came to school, and when he did, he was never where he was supposed to be. Craig found it extremely odd that Kenny was even speaking to him.

“Y’know,” Kenny put out his cigarette on the wall behind him, ignoring Craig’s question entirely. “I don't mean to intrude on your personal life,” he paused, “but uh, just a word of advice; don't waste your time tryin’ to fix somethin’ that ain't worth fixin’ just because you don't wanna end up lookin’ like the bad guy. It’s better to end things on bad terms than to keep lyin' to yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Craig was confused and a bit offended. Kenny had obviously overheard the conversation between him and Tweek, but why he felt that he had the right to share his opinion on the matter, especially when he knew _none_ of the details, Craig had no idea.

“I gotta get goin’,” Kenny looked at him, finally. But it felt more as though he was looking _past_ him. Or through him. His expression was unreadable. Craig briefly wondered if he actually had somewhere that he needed to be, or if he had just grown bored of their weird, vague conversation. He probably thought Craig wasn't worth his precious time. “I'm glad we had this talk,” He added.

And then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write a Crenny fic that doesn't involve them smoking tbh, it's impossible lmao  
>   
> Also, a note: My characterization of Kenny in this fic is one that not everyone likes/ agrees with, so if you're not into Kenny being not exactly what you would call a good person then you might not wanna read this lmao. I personally like to experiment with different characterizations of him even if I don't necessarily headcanon him as having that kind of personality, because it's fun and I like to challenge myself and see if I can still make it seem realistic. But as I'm adding this note I'm working on chapter 11 of this fic and I've seen a few people on Tumblr talking about how they don't love my portrayal of Kenny in this fic, which I definitely expected going into it, but since this is currently my most popular fic, of course everyone has the idea that I characterize him this way all the time, which I don't haha.  
> But anyway I just wanted to add a lil heads-up at the beginning of this fic so that the people who don't like Kenny being characterized as well,,, an asshole,,, know not to read it. Because while quite a few people seem to like my characterization, there's quite a few people who hate it too and tbh I just don't want those people leaving comments about it, because this is just how I wanted to write him in this one fic, and I don't need criticism on that aspect of the story, because I'm already aware that not everyone finds it to be accurate.  
> But anyway, I'll stop rambling now. If you're someone who wants to give this fic a chance then hey,,, enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to keep going with this story ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> It’s gonna get real fucked up real quick tbh  
> I can’t promise very frequent updates because I’m such a slow writer tbh and also I’m just awful at finishing what I start but I’ll try my best

_Maybe Kenny was right._

That was all Craig could think to himself as he tried to focus on his homework. What he’d told Tweek after school hadn’t necessarily been a lie; he did have a lot of homework. Ever since he and Tweek had started having problems, Craig had fallen behind in quite a few of his classes. He just wasn't as determined to fix it as he let on.

_“Don't waste your time tryin’ to fix somethin’ that ain't worth fixin’ just because you don't wanna end up lookin’ like the bad guy.”_

Kenny’s words echoed through his mind. _Was that really what he was doing?_

It was a long, sleepless night and at around four in the morning Craig had decided that he was unbelievably furious with Kenny. How dare he overhear one conversation and think that he knew everything? How dare he try to tell Craig what to do? How dare he be _right?_

Craig didn't know what it was, but something drew him back to that same spot behind the school the next morning when he went to smoke his before-school cigarette. It was seven thirty in the morning and he hadn't slept, and he was pissed off that his relationship with Tweek was falling apart, and all he wanted to do right at that moment was yell at Kenny. Luckily, the blonde was in the exact same place that morning that he had been the day before, again smoking a cigarette.  

“Alright, so I gotta know something,” Craig spoke upon approaching him. Kenny looked up at Craig, seeming rather amused when he noticed that he was angry, “where do you get off on telling me about _my_ relationship like you know me, or anything about the situation at all?”

There was a long silence before Kenny responded. “Ah, Craig. How nice to see you again,” he replied calmly and sarcastically, then taking a drag from his cigarette and exhaling the smoke practically right into Craig’s face, causing him to cough and back up a bit. He crossed his arms and waited for a real answer, but one did not come. Instead, another question; “you wanna come to a party with me tonight?”

“What?” Craig scoffed.

“There's a party at Bebe’s place tonight. You look like you could really use some fun,” the blonde elaborated.

“Dude, no, I don't wanna go to a party with you. Are you fucking insane?” Craig replied, still angry and frantic.

“Perhaps,” Kenny calmly took another drag from his cigarette.

“Where did you even come from? When did you start coming to school again?” Craig interrogated him further.

“When the school social worker showed up at my front door with the cops and hundreds of dollars in truancy tickets,” Kenny answered honestly, “any more questions?”

“Yeah. I wanna know why you were eavesdropping on my conversation with Tweek yesterday,” Craig finally brought the conversation back to the original topic, despite Kenny’s attempts to throw him off of the subject.

“Eavesdropping?” the shorter male chuckled amusedly, “That's an interesting choice of words. Especially when you know that you were having a conversation out in the open and I just happened to overhear it.”

“Yeah, well, do me a favor and try not to do that, alright?” Craig felt like he needed an Aspirin for the headache that this conversation was giving him.

“Sorry, man,” Kenny laughed defensively, “I guess my ears just naturally pick up on dysfunction.”

 _“We’re not dysfunctional,”_ Craig spat back all too quickly. He took a moment to calm himself down and regain his composure, “...we’re going through some shit right now but we’re gonna be fine.” Craig didn't know if he was trying to convince Kenny, or himself, at this point.

“Alright. If you say so,” Kenny replied, “there's no need to take your anger out on me.”

The _‘if you say so’_ had just pissed Craig off even further. “Learn to mind your own goddamn business and I won't _have_ to take my anger out on you.”

There was another brief silence. “...You sure you don't wanna come to the party tonight?” Kenny asked again, “you just seem so _incredibly_ tense. It's starting to stress _me_ out a little bit, honestly.”

“Why do you care?” Craig questioned him.

“I don't,” Kenny stated matter-of-factly, bringing his cigarette up to his lips once again, “I barely know you. But I do know that _you_ care.”

“What's that supposed to mea-” Craig tried to speak but Kenny cut him off.

“I've seen the way you sulk around town like you're half dead. The way you don't even look at Tweek when he talks to you,” Kenny explained, “it doesn't take a genius to see that you're unhappy. I used to feel that way once too.”

Craig took a moment to process what Kenny was saying and even though it angered him beyond belief, he knew that he was right and he wondered how Kenny knew _. Was it really that obvious?_ “What did I just say about minding your own business?” Craig responded, finally. Though it didn't sound nearly as confident as he’d wanted it to.

“Sorry,” Kenny shrugged, “it was just an observation.”

Craig opened his mouth to speak again but he was cut off by the first bell of the day ringing, letting them know that they only had ten minutes to get to class. He was kind of relieved that their conversation had been cut short, because he was running out of witty things to say. Craig sighed and turned to leave, making his way to the back doors of the school.

“So, will I see you tonight?” Kenny called after him.

Craig wanted to say no but Kenny was right; he desperately needed to have some fun. Or maybe he just needed some alcohol. “...I’ll think about stopping by,” Craig yelled back as he walked away, not stopping or looking back at Kenny. He spotted Tweek walking towards the same door that he was headed for and made sure to avoid him, knowing that if he saw him, he would bring up that Craig never called him last night like he’d said he was going to.

_Maybe going to a party wouldn't be the worst thing in the world._

 

* * *

 

There was something about Kenny McCormick. Maybe it was those icy blue eyes, or the way he always spoke so goddamn cryptically, but something about him just screamed; _trouble._ And Craig hated him, he decided. He hated the way that he thought the rules didn’t apply to him; never showing up for school and always out having fun, meanwhile Craig got to waste away in mediocrity and spend every moment questioning whether or not he was _really_ happy. Craig wouldn't say that he was jealous, but, _maybe he was a little bit envious._

Maybe that was why he decided to go to the party that night. To prove something to Kenny, or maybe to himself. Who knows.

He’d heard all of the stories about Kenny. Even when he himself wasn't at school, you could always feel his presence, with the way that everybody talked about him. All of the rumors and dramatic re-tellings of the things he did on the weekends; the parties, the countless hookups. Craig often wondered how much of it was true. He didn't know why he suddenly cared so much, but now that he had a chance to find out for himself, he didn't wanna waste it.

Looking back now though, _he probably should have wasted it_.

 

* * *

 

Parties had never been and never would be Craig’s thing. They were too loud, there were too many people occupying one tiny space, and somebody _always_ left with a black eye. And yet there he was, spending his Friday night at another shitty high school party with cheap alcohol and people that he didn't even like. He thought maybe it would be a nice distraction, and it _was_ a distraction, but he wouldn't necessarily consider it a nice one. He was contemplating leaving and going back to the comfort of his quiet, boring little house when he felt someone tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see an obviously drunk Bebe.

“Hey, Craig! Is that you?” She yelled over the music.

“Uh… yeah!?” Craig replied, not really sure who else Bebe thought he could possibly be.

“Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?! You've never struck me as a party kind of guy!” Bebe continued yelling, right into Craig’s ear.

“Yeah, I'm usually not!” Craig yelled back.

“Well I hope you have fun!” Bebe giggled in response, stumbling a bit and grabbing onto Craig’s shoulder to keep her balance. Bebe was actually someone that Craig could almost consider a friend, and that was another reason why he had decided to come to this party. He was slightly more comfortable with it due to that fact that she was the one hosting it. “Oh! And by the way,” Bebe spoke again, “Kenny was looking for you earlier! I don't know what he wants but he told me to send you his way if I ran into you! If you can't find him inside anywhere he's probably out in the backyard smoking!”

The mention of Kenny’s name made Craig nervous for some reason and before he had a chance to respond, Wendy called Bebe over from the other side of the room and Bebe ran off to go meet her. And Craig was alone again in a room full of people.

Craig should've known that Kenny would be keeping an eye out for him, considering the fact that he was the one who had convinced him to come to the party in the first place, but he couldn't help but wonder why. He and Kenny weren't friends. They never had been. Aside from the events of the past two days, the last time they’d spoken more than just a few words to eachother was when they’d been paired up for a science project in the sixth grade. Fastforward to now, Kenny had randomly thrown some insults at him that were cleverly disguised as ‘advice’ and basically tried to tell him that he knew Craig’s own life better than he did, and now he wanted to hang out. And it was fucking _weird._

_But maybe the mystery was what drew Craig in._

Not seeing Kenny anywhere inside, Craig made his way through the crowds of people to the back door, opening it and stepping outside. There were people in the backyard as well, but not _nearly_ as many, and it wasn't nearly as loud, either. It was a nice change in atmosphere from the rather chaotic one inside. Craig scanned the yard, looking for that familiar orange parka, and after a few moments he spotted Kenny, on the small two-person swing set in the _very_ back of the backyard, that looked like it hadn't been used in about ten years. He wasn't smoking, which Craig found a bit surprising and he briefly wondered if Kenny had been waiting for him. The other swing was empty and Craig made his way over, sitting down on the swing next to Kenny. Kenny looked over at him and was about to say something, but Craig cut him off before he could make any kind of sarcastic, smartass remark. “Before you say anything, I didn't come to this thing because of you,” he was lying and they both knew it.

Kenny nodded. “Did you tell Tweek that you were going to a party tonight?”

“Fuck no,” Craig shook his head, “I told him I had a family thing.”

“...And now everyone from school, including close friends of his, have seen you here and will _definitely_ tell him,” Kenny remarked, “smart move.”

“Y’know what, I don't care,” Craig replied annoyedly. Suddenly he was again reminded of what an asshole Kenny was. “Now what do you want? Bebe said you were looking for me.”

Kenny reached into the pocket of his orange parka, pulling out a plastic baggy with a small amount of weed in it. “I got this for later, if you're up for it. I wanna wait ‘till everybody goes inside though so nobody else bugs me for any. I hate it when-”

“Why?” Craig blurted out, unintentionally cutting Kenny off.

“Why what?” Kenny raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why the sudden interest in me?” Craig elaborated, raising his voice slightly, “Like, no offense dude, but we’re not friends. Especially after that shit you pulled yesterday? Acting like you know everything about me when we haven't talked in years? You're a pretentious dick.” Craig was growing frustrated and he didn't even really know why. Was it the situation at hand or just his life in general? He could never tell anymore.

“Woah, hey. Alright. Fair enough,” Kenny threw his hands up defensively, “but let me ask you something. If you hate me _that_ much… then why are you here?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Look, as much as you wanna deny it, I think we both know why you're here,” Kenny stated. Craig genuinely wasn't following him, which made him even more annoyed; the way Kenny was acting like he knew him better than he knew himself again. “You heard about this party through me. If you hate me as much as you say you do, why come find me when Bebe told you I was looking for you? Why bother showing up at all? I know you're not here because you _like_ parties. You hate parties.”

_Dammit, how did he know all of this shit?_

“Y’know what, you're right. I don't know why I'm here,” Craig replied. Clearly, Kenny had put ten times more thought into him coming to this party and the reasoning behind it than he had, “I guess I just wanted to try something different.”

“Right,” Kenny nodded, “but when you say that, are you talking about the party, or maybe… me?” and suddenly Craig knew what he was getting at. And then the guilt set in because the idea flashed through his mind just for a second and he didn't hate it.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence and now Craig was starting to realize even more that everything Kenny had said to him in the past two days was true. His relationship with Tweek _was_ dysfunctional, he _was_ unhappy, he _had_ come to this party for Kenny, and there _was_ something about him that Craig was attracted to.

_...But that was okay, as long as he didn't act on it, right?_

“...You wanna go somewhere and smoke this pot now?” Kenny spoke up again when Craig said nothing.

And because Craig was so great at making terrible decisions, he said yes. They went and sat behind a tree in Bebe’s backyard where nobody could see them and Kenny rolled a joint for them to share.

“If Tweek knew that I was doing this he’d fucking kill me,” Craig laughed quietly, “he’s really weird about drugs, y’know? Super paranoid.”

“Good thing he’s not here then,” Kenny remarked, and then Craig felt guilty again. He watched Kenny as he lit the joint and took a hit, and the way he titled his head back and parted his lips when he went to exhale made Craig feel something that he absolutely hated and he wished someone would punch him in the face for being so perverted. “Here,” Kenny passed the joint off to him.

Minutes went by and they continued smoking in silence. But as Craig started to feel the effects of the weed, for some reason he found it necessary to start talking again and get himself into even more trouble. “Alright, so I have a confession to make,” He spoke, and Kenny looked up at him, “I _really_ kinda hate you.”

“Oh is that right?” The blonde chuckled amusedly, “And why is that?”

“Because you just get to do _whatever_ you want, _all_ the time, and it’s not fair, dude,” Craig answered, taking another hit from the joint they were sharing and then passing it back to Kenny.

“I’m thinkin’ there’s a lot about my life that you don’t know,” Kenny replied, and Craig thought briefly that he’d like to know more about Kenny. He missed the excitement of trying to figure someone out; and Kenny was someone that he _definitely_ did _not_ have figured out. “But here’s something to think about,” Kenny continued. “Why _don’t_ you just do whatever you want? In fact, why not start right now? What’s stopping you?”

Whether it was the drugs, what Kenny had just said, the way that Kenny was looking at him, or a combination of all three, Craig didn’t know. But for some reason, suddenly he couldn’t think straight. “W-what do you mean?” He stuttered. Looking Kenny in the eyes was starting to make him feel nervous.

“Well,” Kenny spoke again, “I’m just gonna throw this out there, and feel free to correct me if I’m wrong...but right now, you’re kinda lookin’ at me like you wanna kiss me.”

Craig’s eyes widened and he tried to think rationally but he couldn’t because he was still high and he hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and _god, Kenny was good-looking._ “I think I do,” he blurted out.

“Then do it,” Kenny shrugged.

And he did.

When Craig leaned forward and pressed their lips together, the kiss was soft at first. It was curious; experimental. But although it was soft, there was nothing innocent about it. Craig wanted to believe that it had just been a momentary lapse in judgment but that wasn’t the case, because he wanted more and he was pulling Kenny closer. He was kissing this random boy from school that he had just spoken to for the first time in years just a little over twenty-four hours ago, and it felt so new and exciting and it was everything that he had been craving so desperately lately.

Things heated up quickly as Kenny bit down on Craig’s bottom lip and Craig let out some kind of noise that was a mix between a gasp and a whimper, Kenny then taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into the taller boy’s mouth. He moved one hand down to rest on Craig’s thigh, the other still holding onto the joint they had been smoking. Meanwhile, Craig's hands were awkwardly gripping Kenny's jacket. 

Kenny was experienced, Craig could tell that much. He was clearly the more dominant one of them as well, which was very different from what Craig was used to. He was always the one in charge when he was with Tweek- _oh god._

_Tweek._

Panic began to set in as Craig was brought back to reality and he started to realize the magnitude of what he was doing. “Kenny, stop-” Craig spoke frantically, pushing the other male away from him. “Oh my god, what am I doing- _”_

“Dude, calm down,” Kenny placed his hand on Craig’s thigh again and Craig hated that it turned him on.

“Don't touch me,” Craig snapped, swatting his hand away. In an attempt to calm himself down, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten in his head and then exhaling shakily. “I don't want this,” he spoke again, more calmly, “I love Tweek.”

Kenny just shrugged. “Okay. If you say so,” he agreed to back off, handing the joint that he was still holding back to Craig before standing up to leave. _There he went with the “if you say so” shit again._

“Oh and by the way,” Kenny spoke yet again before walking away, “....you're hard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH FOR WRITING THIS BECAUSE TWEEK DESERVES BETTER, DAMMIT


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy,  
> This chapter is longer than the first two chapters combined bc writing dialogue between Kenny and Craig is like, my favorite part of life, and I get carried away lmao

“You _what?”_ Clyde exclaimed, his eyes wide and horrified.

Craig now remembered why he didn't simply just do whatever he wanted all the time. Because in the real world, actions had consequences. Why he couldn't have figured that out the night before remained a mystery to him. It was now the next morning, and Craig had made the mistake of telling his close friend Clyde about the… _incident_ that had happened at Bebe’s party. He’d needed to tell  _someone,_ because the guilt was eating him alive, and Clyde had been the first person on the ‘recent calls’ list on his phone, so he was the one that Craig had ended up calling in a panic, insisting that he needed to come over  _immediately._ But as soon as he put everything out in the open, he regretted it instantly.

“Dude, please don't make me say it again,” Craig sighed. He’d gotten about three hours of sleep in two days and it definitely showed. His hair was a mess, he was breaking out from the stress, and the dark circles under his eyes were noticeably more prominent than usual.

“Dude, you cheated on Tweek!” Clyde pointed out, as if Craig wasn't aware of this already.

“Yeah thanks, Clyde, why don't you say that a little louder? I don't think they heard you all the way in Wisconsin,” Craig snapped annoyedly. They were sitting in his bedroom alone, where nobody could possibly overhear them unless they were  _in_ the house, but Craig was still a paranoid wreck. “At least I didn't sleep with him,” he added, though he knew full well that what he did was not justifiable by any means.

There was a brief silence before Clyde spoke up again; “....Did you like it, though?”

“Oh my god,” Craig groaned in response, burying his head in his hands.

“Bad question to ask?”

“Yeah but only because I _did_ like it,” Craig replied, ashamed, not looking up at his friend, “I was the one who initiated it too. I fuckin’ popped a boner after like thirty seconds of makin’ out.”

“Alright, well I didn't need to know  _that_ much,” Clyde said. Craig couldn’t see him but he imagined that he had a look of disgust on his face. “I can’t believe you made out with Kenny McCormick.”

“Dude, stop saying it!” Craig yelled, “It was a mistake!”

“Does _he_ know that?” Clyde asked, and Craig looked up at him again.

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ that you’d better make it clear to him that it’s not gonna happen again, because I know how Kenny is, and he’s _not_ gonna back off unless you _make_ him,” Clyde elaborated, “ _and_ you’d better make sure that he doesn’t tell Tweek before you do.”

Craig’s eyes widened. “Woah woah, who said anything about telling Tweek?”

“You’re not gonna tell him?” Clyde’s eyes widened even more than Craig’s.

“Dude, no I’m not gonna tell him!” Craig’s tone softened, “...I can’t hurt him like that. He's already so insecure as it is, I don't want him to think that it was because of something _he_ did, y'know?”

“Was it?” Clyde raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, I'm just a fucking idiot,” Craig sighed, not feeling like going in depth about all of the reasons why his relationship was failing. But that was the short version of the story, basically.

“Well, if you didn’t wanna hurt him, then cheating on him probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” Clyde remarked, and Craig shot him a look that told him he’d better shut up, without having to actually say it.

They sat there in silence for a few moments while Craig tried to work up the courage to ask the question that he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to. He took a deep breath. “...Do you think I’m a terrible person?” he asked Clyde, terrified that he would say yes. Not that it wouldn't be justified.

“No,” his friend shrugged, though it sounded a bit forced in Craig’s opinion. “You're pretty fucking stupid, yeah. But not terrible,” he paused, and Craig smiled weakly. He was happy to hear that his best friend didn't _entirely_ hate him. “..Can I ask you a serious question, though?” Clyde asked, and Craig nodded, “...If you’re unhappy enough to cheat on him, then why are you still with him in the first place?”  

Craig wished that he could give Clyde an honest answer, but he wasn’t even sure himself. “I don’t know,” he replied with a sigh and Clyde just looked at him. There was a trace of sympathy in his expression but Craig could feel that he was judging him, and rightfully so.

"...Can I ask you somethin' else?" Clyde spoke again. 

"Dude, you don't have to  _ask_ if you can ask. Just ask the question," Craig answered, though a big part of him wanted to tell Clyde no, because he was beginning to stress him out.

"Right," Clyde nodded. "So uh... _why_ _Kenny?"_  

"Huh?" Craig replied, caught a bit off-guard by his friend's question. 

"I don't know, it just seems kinda random," Clyde elaborated, "I wouldn't think that he'd be someone that you would be into-"

"I'm  _not_ into him," Craig cut him off, "he's a dick." 

"Then why-" 

"For fuck's sake, Clyde, I don't know, okay? It just _happened,"_ Craig snapped, then noticing his rather harsh tone and taking a second to calm down before he continued. "He said some stuff that fucked with my head, and there  _may_ have been drugs involved," There was much more to it than that, but the last thing Craig wanted to do was get into the details. 

"Drugs?" Clyde gave him a questioning, slightly judgemental look. 

"Oh my god, what are you, my mom? We smoked a joint, don't act like you've never done it before," Craig scolded him. He felt a little bit bad for getting so frustrated with Clyde, because he _had_ come all the way to his house to listen to him talk about his problems, but Jesus Christ, he already felt terrible enough about the situation and so far, Clyde was _not_ making him feel any better. 

"Okay, okay, sorry," Clyde replied defensively. More awkward silence followed and Craig stared down at his feet, almost three whole minutes passing before either of them said anything again; “...So what are you gonna do?” Clyde broke the silence.

Craig sighed yet again. He knew what he  _needed_ to do, but he was absoluteły dreading it. “I guess I gotta fuckin’ go find Kenny,” he groaned, standing up from the chair that he was sitting in and picking up his hat and hoodie from the floor where he had mindlessly tossed them when he’d come home the night before, and putting them back on.  

“Well, I guess I should get going too then,” Clyde stood up as well. “I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick first though if you don't mind.”

“Yeah, dude, go ahead,” Craig replied absentmindedly from the doorway. He was about to turn to leave but then Clyde spoke again;

“Hey uh, one more thing, dude,” he started, “you're not gonna love hearing this but I gotta say it.” Craig didn't say anything, just gave him a questioning look, but inside he was terrified of what his friend might say. “You know you're my _best friend_ , but uh,” he paused. He looked like he was trying to decide how to word what he wanted to say next in a way that _wouldn't_  make Craig resent him for the rest of his life. “...Tweek is my friend too, and I'm not down with you not telling him. So I’ll give you a chance to tell him how you want to, but if you don't do it soon… then _I_ _will.”_ Clyde warned. 

Craig didn't respond. He didn't know how to and he didn't want to, so he just turned around and walked away. He knew that he'd made a mistake by trusting Clyde, not that Clyde was actually being unreasonable, because he was right; telling Tweek would be the  _obvious_ right thing to do. Anyone could've told him that. And he wanted to say that deciding Tweek needed to know wasn't his decision to make, or that it wasn't any of Clyde’s business, but Craig had  _made_ it his business by telling him, knowing that he and Tweek were also close, so maybe it was his own fault.

_Everything was his fault._

“Good luck!” Clyde called after him.

“Yeah, whatever,” Craig yelled back. Little did he know that he would be needing that luck a lot more than he ever would’ve thought.

* * *

Craig felt sick to his stomach as he walked up to Kenny’s front door, feeling like he was walking right into a trap. He almost couldn't bring himself to knock on the door, taking several moments to gather up his courage and just  _breathe_ before he finally did it.

Kenny answered the door, not looking at all surprised when he saw Craig. “Back for more?” He chuckled amusedly, and Craig could already tell that this wasn’t going to be a quick, easy conversation like he’d so desperately hoped that it would be, though he hadn't really expected that wish to come true. 

“We need to talk,” Craig spoke firmly. He glanced behind Kenny and he couldn’t help but notice that the house seemed to be empty, besides Kenny. He briefly wondered where the rest of his family was, knowing that he lived with both of his parents, his older brother, and his younger sister. Or at least he had at one point. Not that Craig really cared.

Kenny laughed. “Do we?”

“Yeah, we do,” Craig crossed his arms. “Now listen to me. What happened last night was a mistake. And I really,  _really_ need you to understand that,” he continued, trying his hardest to keep his voice sounding calm and assertive.

Kenny shrugged in response, then followed up with those same four words that pissed Craig off beyond belief; _“If you say so.”_

Craig rolled his eyes. “Okay, no,” he replied, raising his voice a bit out of frustration. _Were conversations with Kenny McCormick this aggravating and exhausting for everyone, or was it just him?_ “See, that's another thing. You need to stop saying that. It  _was_ a mistake. Like, I literally can _not_ stress that enough. I wasn't thinking straight, and I did something stupid, and that's _it.”_

Kenny nodded. “...Are you thinking straight _now?”_

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” Craig replied. _Maybe because I can hardly remember the last time I slept through a whole night, and because I'm talking to you,_ he thought to himself.

“Then once again I gotta ask; why are you here?” Kenny asked, raising an eyebrow at Craig.

 _Jesus fucking Christ, with this shit again,_ Craig thought. “What are you talking about? I'm here to tell you you'd better stay the fuck away from me,” he stated.

“Right. I got that,” Kenny replied, “but you could've like, gotten my number from someone and texted me. Or maybe called. Or talked to me at school on Monday, even," he drawled, "but instead... you came all the way to my house.”

Craig scoffed and rolled his eyes. This guy was fucking  _unbelievable,_ and Crag hated talking to him with every fiber of his being. “Dude, fuck off. Seriously,” he glared at Kenny. “I'm leaving now, okay? Just leave me alone. And if you can manage it, don't tell anyone about what happened,” he finished. When Kenny said nothing, Craig turned to walk away, deciding it would be best to leave before Kenny could say something that would suck him in and cause him to stay there any longer than he needed to. He'd made his point, and now he was done.

“If it really was a mistake, it's obviously one that you want to happen again,” Kenny stated matter-of-factly, and Craig stopped walking.

_And there it was, right on cue._

“And you're _obviously_ reading too far into this,” Craig replied, not turning around to face him again.

“Am I?” Kenny asked, “I mean, you’re telling me to leave you alone, but… I haven’t even done anything yet. Maybe you came here because you _want_ me to give you a reason to tell me to back off?” He finished.

Craig decided that he’d had just about enough of Kenny’s ridiculous mind games. He knew that what Kenny was saying wasn't true, _at least he was pretty sure,_ but now that Kenny had put the thought in his head, he couldn't get it out, and _god dammit, that pissed him off so much._ Craig turned around, angrily walking back over to Kenny and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, forcefully pushing him up against the front door of his house. “I’m telling you that you need to stop,” he warned, hoping that he was coming off much more confident than he actually felt, “don't make me tell you again.”

Kenny looked at him, amused, and seemingly not at all intimidated. In fact, he looked as though he was trying to suppress a laugh. “Y’know, just because you're taller than me doesn't mean you're stronger. I could take you, easy.”

“Dude, I'm not afraid to clock you right in the fuckin’ jaw if you don't shut up,” Craig lied.

“Okay,” Kenny shrugged, and then a devious grin formed on his face. “...Just admit you want me and then I'll stop.”

It absolutely amazed Craig that he had Kenny pinned up against the door of his own house and was threatening to punch him in the face, and Kenny still somehow had it in his head that  _he_ was the one in charge in this situation. But maybe it was because, well, he kinda was. _“I don't,”_ Craig insisted, his grip on Kenny’s shirt tightening.

“You sure seemed to last night,” Kenny continued to try to get a rise out of him, even though he _very_   _clearly_ already had.

“ _Stop._ ”

“ _Admit it._ ”

“ _No._ That’s not how we’re doing this,” Craig replied as assertively as he could manage, “I'm telling you to back off _right now,_ and you're gonna back off _right the fuck now.”_

Kenny just laughed at him. “Dude, look how nervous you are,” he remarked, and Craig couldn't help but wonder if his nervousness was really showing through that much, or if Kenny was making it up to trick him into feeling even more nervous. “You totally want me.”

 _Oh my god, what does it take to get this guy to fuck off?_ Craig thought to himself, giving up and letting go of Kenny frustratedly, because how  _close_ they were was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. Kenny chuckled again, looking rather satisfied with himself as he fixed his shirt and dusted himself off with his hands, Craig stepping away from him and mentally sighing. The stress and pressure of trying to figure out how to handle this situation on the spot was starting to get to him.

_...Wait a minute._

An idea came to him, and Craig didn't know what made him think that he could pull it off, but at that moment, it seemed to be the only option he had left. _He had to beat Kenny at his own game._ And what was his game, exactly? _Manipulation._ Craig didn't have much experience in that department, given that he normally didn't ever put much thought into the things that he said, just blurted out exactly what he meant, not caring about what kind of reaction he got, or if it sounded messy. And the things that he wasn't comfortable talking about, he simply didn't say. But in this situation, he needed to be more careful. And much more _bold._ Two things that he normally, well... wasn't. At all. 

“...Are you sure it’s not the other way around?” Craig dared to speak, and Kenny raised an eyebrow at him. He’d gotten his attention. _Good._

“I’m intrigued, go on,” Kenny nodded amusedly, crossing his arms, acting as though Craig should’ve been _honored_ that he was willing to let him speak.

“How do I know that you’re not just doing this because _you_ want _me,_ huh _?”_ Craig spoke again, boldly, though he was absolutely terrified that his plan would backfire, and once again, the situation would just end up getting a _million_ times worse. And from what he’d observed over the course of the past few days, he now knew that if Kenny was involved in a situation, that was always the most likely possibility. And what Craig was attempting to do now was dangerous, and _incredibly_ stupid. But still, it was worth a try. “I mean, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong,” Craig continued, mocking the way that Kenny had spoken to him the night before, “...but you seem to be pretty damn eager to fuck me.” Craig tried not to cringe at the words as they came out. How Kenny said shit like that so confidently and with a straight face, Craig would never understand.

Kenny looked shocked for a moment but he covered it up rather quickly, trading in his amused expression for a rather stoic one. “Eh,” he shrugged, eyeing Craig up and down quickly, “I could take it or leave it.”

“Yeah?” Craig scoffed, “Well do yourself a favor and leave it.”

And again, Kenny just laughed, right in his face. “I think you should know, just for future reference, that I'm not at all intimidated by you,” He remarked. Then he took a moment to think before speaking again. “But okay. You’ve made yourself clear,” he said calmly with a shrug, and Craig’s eyes widened slightly in shock at Kenny’s sudden willingness to cooperate.

 _“Good.”_ Craig nodded, trying not to look as confused as he was feeling. He had won. _But had he really?_

_There had to be some sort of catch._

“Bye, Craig,” Kenny said with a smile that was anything but genuine, and that classic _‘I know something you don’t know’_ look on his face that he always seemed to be wearing. He opened the door to his house again, going back inside without another word and shutting it behind him.

But when Kenny closed the door, Craig didn’t feel relieved. In fact, he almost felt… _disappointed. He hadn’t expected Kenny to give up._ He knew that he _should’ve_ felt accomplished, after all, he had gotten Kenny to agree to leave him alone, which was no easy task. And that was why he had gone there in the first place… _right?_

Annoyance and self-hatred set in again as he began to realize what was happening. It was painfully ironic, really; now that Kenny had backed off, Craig was suddenly becoming aware of just how much he wanted him. And next thing he knew, he was wondering what the chances were of somebody from school happening to drive past Kenny’s house at that moment as he found himself knocking on the door again. It took Kenny longer than it should have to answer it; like he was giving Craig a chance to change his mind. To think about what he was doing. But when Kenny did open the door, simply looking at Craig and asking, "yes?", Craig’s hands immediately reached for the collar of his shirt again and this time he wasn’t threatening him, he was kissing him. The fact that they could get caught gave Craig a rush that he couldn’t decide whether he liked or not, it was exhilarating and terrifying and _god, he hated himself,_ and Kenny kissed him back immediately, as if he had been anticipating it, laughing against Craig’s lips and tugging on his arm, pulling him inside the house and then shutting the door behind them. 

“What was that you were saying about not wanting me?” He said mockingly, a devilish smirk playing across his lips. 

“For the love of god, stop talking,” Craig snapped, and then Kenny’s lips were on his again. It felt so wrong, no, it _was_ so wrong, and Craig absolutely despised himself for loving every second of it anyway, and wanting _more; so much more._ It wasn’t long before Kenny was licking at the seam of his lips and Craig let him in willingly, his hands traveling down to grip Kenny’s hips and yank him closer. He was so desperate for this kind of contact. But much to his dismay, Kenny knew exactly how desperate he was, and he’d decided that he wouldn’t be letting Craig get what he wanted so easily. He pulled away, Craig letting out a groan of frustration and disappointment as Kenny leaned up to whisper in his ear;

“I hope you know I ain't doing nothin’ to ya until you admit that you want me,” Kenny teased, and Craig shuddered as he felt chills going down his spine. “You have to _say it.”_

“Yeah? Well you’re not gonna get me to say it, so I guess we’re not doing this,” Craig replied defiantly, attempting to cling to what little dignity he had left, though he was the one who had gotten himself into this mess. He really had no right to act as though he didn't want this, considering that once again, he was the one who had initiated it. But still, he was too stubborn, too _ashamed_ to admit it.

“Is that a challenge?” Kenny asked, still pressed up against him, and Craig instantly regretted saying anything. He hadn’t meant for it to be, but now he was curious to see what Kenny would do. “...I could get you to beg for me if I wanted to," he continued, "but lucky for you, I’m not asking for that much this time.”

Craig didn’t doubt it, though maybe he would’ve liked to think that he did, but still he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how _cocky_ and _sure of himself_ the other male was. The way he had said _‘this time’,_ like he was absolutely certain that they would be doing this again. “Are you always this persistent?” Craig asked him.

The blonde shrugged. “Depends. Are you always this stubborn?” He answered with another question. He seemed to do that a lot. “Y’know, it really is a shame that you don't want me,” Kenny spoke again, his tone of voice teasing and bittersweet, and Craig knew that he was in for it now, “because if you did… we could have all kinds of fun. _In fact,_ I could do whatever you want. Depends on how ya like it… but somethin’ tells me _you_ like it _rough._ Do ya?”

“Fuck off,” Craig replied in his usual flat, impassive tone of voice, though his cheeks were turning red from embarrassment and the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans was getting increasingly more difficult for him to ignore. Kenny responded by raising an eyebrow at him, and that was all the warning he gave before pushing him roughly, and Craig yelped as he stumbled backwards and felt his back hit the wall behind him. _"Fuck,"_ he breathed.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Kenny’s smirk grew even wider, and he leaned up to whisper into Craig’s ear again, “I could do that, y’know. I could fuck you _hard,_ ‘til you’re screamin’ my name and grippin’ the bedsheets for dear life...I bet Tweek never did any of that,” he drawled, and Craig should've felt at least a little bit guilty when he was reminded of Tweek but in that moment he didn't. “All you'd have to do is ask. But of course… you don't want me. Right?” Kenny taunted, and Craig bit his lip in an attempt to suppress any noise. 

Craig hated this. He hated Kenny. He hated that Kenny was perfectly okay, no, _way_  more than just okay with doing this, even though he was _well aware_ that Craig had a boyfriend. He hated that Kenny was just encouraging him to continue on with all the awful choices he had been making lately, and didn't stop to question whether what they were doing was really _right,_ at least for Tweek’s sake, even though that wasn't Kenny’s responsibility; it was his. But most of all, he hated that he couldn’t blame Kenny for his own bad decisions, no matter how much he wanted to, and he hated that even though he knew he would never be able to forgive himself for doing this to Tweek, the only thing that was _really_ on his mind was how desperately he wanted to find out if Kenny was all talk, or if he could really deliver on his promises.

In another attempt to get Craig to give in, Kenny kissed along his jaw, getting closer to his lips every time but never _quite_ getting there, and Craig shut his eyes as a shaky sigh escaped his lips. Kenny laughed bitterly. “C’mon, Craig. _Just say it,”_ He urged. He was being so _agonizingly_ gentle on purpose, doing just enough to make Craig want more, but also letting him know that he wouldn't give him what he _really_ wanted until he could swallow his pride and admit that he wanted it.  

“Dammit, Kenny,” Craig groaned frustratedly.

“Mm. I could get used to you sayin’ my name like that, but those aren’t the words I’m lookin’ for,” Kenny replied teasingly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Craig’s mouth before his lips moved down to his neck, and Craig hoped to God that he knew better than to leave any marks where anyone else could see, or at least anywhere that he couldn't easily hide it by wearing a hoodie for a couple of days and keeping it zipped up.

Speaking of hoodies, Kenny was now unzipping the one that Craig was currently wearing, and then he pulled down a bit on the collar of his shirt, moving the fabric out of the way so he could suck at the skin just above his collarbone and Craig tilted his head back, trying but failing to suppress a moan when Kenny suddenly nipped at his collarbone lightly because _fuck, that felt good._ He was more than just a little bit embarrassed by the noise that had just come out of his own mouth, even more so when Kenny chuckled mockingly against his skin, and the feeling of Kenny's breath on his neck was almost too much to handle. Through half-lidded eyes he looked down at Kenny defeatedly, their eyes meeting, and Craig knew that the blonde knew he was about to break.

Kenny’s lips finally found their way back to Craig’s, the taller boy kissing him back eagerly, _desperately_ , and then Kenny bit down _hard_ on Craig’s bottom lip, the same way that had gotten him all hot and bothered the night before, and finally, on impulse, the words came out, Craig’s voice choked and breathy and just barely above a whisper; _“I want you.”_

As if he hadn’t already made it painfully obvious.

Kenny pulled away, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face, and Craig kind of hated that by doing this he was fueling Kenny’s already ridiculously massive ego. But like most of the things he found himself doing lately, he cared enough to question whether he should be doing it, but apparently not enough to not do it.

“I know you do,” Kenny purred, “now should we take this to my room?” he asked, and Craig nodded 'yes' immediately, earning a look of satisfaction and approval from Kenny. “Oh, and another thing,” he started again, his tone of voice lower, more _threatening,_ “...don’t ever try to beat me at my own game again," he warned, looking Craig dead in the eyes, "because I can guarantee you that you’ll always lose,” he finished, and the words, along with the unbelievably _cold_ look that Kenny was giving him sent shivers down Craig’s spine. He didn’t need to be told twice.

He wouldn’t.

* * *

 It had already been questionable when Craig had insisted that it was a mistake the first time. He had gone against his better judgment, that was for sure. But calling it a mistake? That was a bit of a stretch. This time, however, Craig knew that what had just happened could not in any way be referred to as a mistake, or an accident, or a slip-up, or any other variation of the word. Because mistakes were often innocent; _unintentional._ And what he had just done was _anything_ but innocent, and _definitely_ not unintentional.

Craig felt as though every person he passed on the street was _staring_ at him as he walked home; like everyone could tell what he had been up to. Somehow they all knew, and they were all _judging_ him. Craig was sure of it. Now that he had gotten off, and come down from the high that came along with it, there was plenty of room for the guilt and shame to set in, and of course most of him regretted doing what he had done, but another part of him didn't regret it, and that just made him feel even worse. He needed a smoke more than anything but somehow, miraculously, he didn't have any on him, so he tried to keep himself distracted by messing around on his phone as he walked. He checked his messages, only to find that he didn't have any, and the fact that he hadn't heard from Tweek all weekend certainly didn't make him feel any better. Normally Tweek would be texting him _constantly,_ even if they were in a fight, and the sudden silence was making Craig so goddamn paranoid he wanted to scream, but he figured that he deserved it. After all, he only had a reason to be paranoid because he'd done something wrong (the word ‘wrong’ being a major understatement in this case). 

Craig didn't even acknowledge any of his family members when he arrived back home, silently making his way up to his room and letting out a groan as he allowed himself to fall face-first onto his bed. Needless to say, he was exhausted, for countless reasons, and all he wanted to do was fucking _sleep._ For like, a week. _At least._ But instead of sleeping, he did something else that he almost never did; _he cried._ It started out with just a few stray tears that he'd tried as hard as he possibly could to hold back, but soon enough he was all-out uncontrollable, gross sobbing, into his pillow so that nobody could hear him because _god, if anybody asked him what was wrong he might just fucking lose it._ Not that he wasn't already completely losing it. He cried because he'd tried to fix things and just ended up making the situation _unbelievably_ worse. He cried because Clyde was going to tell Tweek what he did. He cried because he and Tweek most likely wouldn't be together anymore by this time next week. He cried because it was _all his own fault,_ and he still didn't even really know  _why_ he had done what he did. And he cried because he knew that it would happen again. He didn't remember what time it had been when he stopped, finally drifting off into a dreamless sleep, but he did remember kind of hoping that he wouldn't wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention that I hate myself for writing this lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was gonna be longer but after spending a week and a half rewriting this part four times I decided to just split it up into two chapters because I wanted to post some kind of update.

Sunday came and went in a blur. Craig spent most of his day in bed, wallowing in self-hatred and drowning in anxiety as the silence between him and Tweek continued. He thought about texting him, or calling him, or making _some_ kind of effort to start a conversation; even if it was one that didn’t end up going anywhere, but the small part of his mind that was screaming _‘what if he knows’_ was holding him back from doing so. Even though there were very few ways he could have found out about ‘the Kenny situation’, as he now called it, one of them being Clyde, who had told Craig that he would give him time, and who still only knew _half_ of what Craig had done, and the other one being the fact that somebody could have seen them at the party on Friday, but Craig was rather certain that if that were the case, it would’ve gotten out by now. Still, he couldn’t help but feel insanely paranoid. Every time his phone buzzed, he worried that he would look down at it and see a message from Tweek, saying _‘I know what you did’,_ or something along those lines.

Around five in the evening, he _did_ receive a message from Tweek, and despite the mini heart attack Craig had when he first saw the other male’s name appear on the screen, all it said was, _‘hey’,_ and was shortly followed by another message, which read, _‘I miss you’._ They had just seen eachother a few days ago but Craig knew what he meant and he texted back; _‘I miss you too. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately’,_ and at that point Craig didn't even know if he was being genuine or just trying to do damage control.

And despite the fact that Tweek and Craig were talking again, and on semi-okay terms again, things were still far from okay. The farthest from it that they could possibly be, really. Because meanwhile, to make matters even worse, _Kenny was relentless._ You'd think that after he had proved his point, he would be satisfied. But apparently that wasn't enough. Craig had secretly hoped that maybe, _just maybe,_ he would get lucky and Kenny would decide to stop coming to school again, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen. He hadn't ever expected the blonde to leave him alone _entirely,_ after all, he had seen just how persistent Kenny could be, and Craig hadn’t exactly made the situation any better for himself by proving how easily he could be persuaded into giving in. Craig had expected all of the suggestive glances from across the room on Monday morning, in the one class they had together (Economics, second period), and the ‘accidental’ touches when nobody was looking. However, he _hadn’t_ expected the constant harassment in the form of text messages (he’d made the mistake of exchanging phone numbers with Kenny on Saturday), especially the ones he received at lunch while sitting _right_ next to his boyfriend. He tried his best to just ignore them, he really did, but when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket for the sixth time that hour, he gave in and pulled it out of his pocket to read the newest message;

 **_Kenny:_ ** _are you thinking about me?_

Craig rolled his eyes and shoved his phone back in his pocket, deciding not to humor Kenny by responding to the message. But then, not even a full minute later, another one came in.

 **_Kenny:_ ** _i bet you are_

Craig’s eyes scanned the cafeteria, looking for Kenny, but he didn't seem to be in the room, which made Craig feel a little bit better, because at least he wasn't watching him reading the messages and actively ignoring them. After second period, the only time he _had_ to be near Kenny, he'd managed to go the entire rest of the day without running into him again so far, and he intended on keeping it that way. Because clearly, attempting to reason with Kenny wasn’t something that would ever work. So maybe just ignoring him would be a better approach. Not that Craig really had any way out of this now. _Not after what he had let happen on Saturday._

He’d really hoped that it would just be a one-time thing. Not because he didn’t enjoy it more than he’d care to admit, but because it just wasn’t _right._ He couldn’t justify continuing to hook up with Kenny. Despite the series of poor and rather impulsive choices he’d made over the weekend, _he wasn’t that kind of person._ He had morals. But then again, maybe he wasn’t as innocent in all of this as he would’ve liked to think. Because going into it, a large part of him had known that it wouldn’t be that easy; a one-night stand with no consequences. No, it couldn’t be. Because Kenny McCormick was definitely  _not_ one for making _anybody’s_ life _easier._ And that’s why now, Craig was stuck. And Kenny was probably _loving it._

For obvious reasons, Craig was feeling more stressed out than usual, and he decided that he needed a cigarette before attempting to face the second half of the school day. “...I’m gonna go have a smoke before next period starts,” he announced, standing up from the lunch table that he’d been sitting at with Clyde, Token, and Tweek, along with the few other people that sat at the same table as them, with whom he never really interacted with. “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Craig gently placed a hand on Tweek’s shoulder and kissed him lightly on the top of his head, earning a questioning and rather accusatory look from Clyde. Craig could tell that it was rather obvious to Clyde what he was doing; being overly affectionate in order to compensate for what Tweek didn’t even know that he had done that weekend. _And Clyde still only knew half of the story._

As Craig made his way out of the cafeteria and into the hallway, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket again and he pulled it out, and this time, it wasn’t Kenny. It was Clyde.

 **_Clyde:_ ** _when are you telling him?_

Craig really regretted ever telling Clyde. Not only because Clyde’s constant nagging him to tell Tweek was making him want to jump off of a tall building, but also because he knew that his best friend would always look at him differently because of this. He would always _resent_ him a little bit because of it. And he would always have something to hold over his head; it would be that one thing that he would blurt out on accident during a future argument in the heat of the moment, and then have to apologize for it later, because he had meant to piss Craig off, but not make him feel like a _complete_ piece of garbage. Clyde was one of the very few people from school who didn’t just see him as an overly-apathetic asshole, and Craig felt as though this particular situation was changing his friend’s image of him into a negative one rather quickly. And he hated it. He didn’t show it, but he hated it so much. He let out a frustrated sigh as he typed out a response to the message;

_**To: Clyde** _

_‘soon. please just give me a couple more days to figure out how to handle it.’_

He put his phone back into the pocket of his hoodie once again and continued walking towards the back doors of the school. But before he could make it to the end of the hallway, Craig felt something grab his arm and yank on it, and his heart sped up with anxiety. Next thing he knew, he was being pulled into the men’s bathroom, and then before he had time to panic, he was face to face with Kenny, and he was less terrified and more annoyed. _So that was why Craig hadn’t been able to find him back in the cafeteria._

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kenny spoke, in that signature tone of voice that was so _Kenny,_ Craig thought he oughta get it trademarked, or whatever.

“Yeah, I tend to do that when I want someone to leave me alone,” Craig replied, letting out the breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and still feeling incredibly blindsided. He had been so careful all day and now still, here he was; right where Kenny wanted him.

“Aw, did I scare ya?” Kenny teased, seeming rather entertained by the other male’s still startled expression.

Craig rolled his eyes in response, and it was then that he noticed that Kenny still hadn't let go of his arm. “What do you want?” He asked annoyedly, though he was already well aware of the blonde’s intentions. He should have been shocked that Kenny was trying to pull something like this while they were at school, but he wasn’t. Not in the slightest.  

“Oh, just a few minutes of your time,” Kenny replied suggestively, and then he reached up to brush Craig’s hair out of his eyes, and the noirette just glared at him.

“Kenny, no, not here,” Craig protested, swatting Kenny’s hand away with his free one. But of course, he didn't listen.

“C’mon, you seem stressed,” the blonde attempted to persuade him, “you should let me help you relax a little bit.”

“Well that wouldn't really make sense, considering the fact that _you're_ the _cause_ of my stress,” Craig replied flatly. “Unless you wanna, y’know, fuck off. That would help me a lot, actually.”

“Ooh, you're extra feisty today,” Kenny chuckled amusedly.

“Get the fuck off of me,” Craig muttered, finally freeing himself from Kenny’s grasp and pushing him away.

Kenny laughed. “Y’know,” he started again, voice laced with sarcasm, “I can't help but notice you've been sendin’ some mixed signals here.”

“Dude, I don't know if you're aware, but _I hate you,”_ Craig snapped. _“That_ I made pretty fuckin’ clear from the beginning. And the fact that you're good in bed doesn't change that.”

“Just _good?”_ Kenny smirked, cocking a brow at him.

“Alright, don’t get _too_ cocky now,” Craig replied, though it was already _way_ too late for that.

“What, you've had better?” Kenny asked, sounding pretty damn sure of himself, as always.

 _No,_ Craig thought, but he didn’t say that, of course. “Maybe I have,” he mumbled.

“Bullshit,” Kenny scoffed.

Craig let out a frustrated sigh. This was exactly why he had been trying to _avoid_ Kenny. He _really_ didn't want to have this conversation  _again._ "Dude _,_ look,” he started again, “if you're gonna hold this over my head for the rest of my life, then you might as well go tell Tweek what happened right now, because I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I've already got Clyde on my ass about telling him, so he's gonna find out eventually anyway.”

“Aw, but that would take all the fun outta this,” Kenny whined sarcastically. 

“I'm glad you find my suffering so amusing,” Craig shot back, and he really wished that this conversation could just be over.

“ _Suffering_ ,” Kenny mocked, laughing and rolling his eyes. “God, you’re so dramatic and uptight, y’know that?”

 _“Dramatic?”_ Craig’s eyes widened. “Dude, I don't think you realize just how badly this situation could end for me,” he continued. He could feel tears of frustration threatening to spill from his eyes now but he did everything he could to hold them back, because if he cried in front of Kenny he knew that he would _never_ hear the end of it. He couldn't help but feel annoyed with himself, because normally he never cried, but then again he had been doing a lot of things lately that he thought he never would. _God, why was he so emotional suddenly?_ He felt like a fucking girl. “I’m gonna lose the _only_ person who’s ever fucking loved me, meanwhile, my best friend already thinks I’m the biggest piece of shit in the world now," he continued, "and he only knows that I kissed you!”  

Kenny shrugged. “Well, maybe you should’ve thought of that before you started whining about how sad and boring your life is,” he replied passively, leaning up against the sink. “You got exactly what you wanted, Craig,” he added coldly.

“Oh my god, would you _stop_ doing that?” Craig groaned, nervously pacing to the other side of the room.   

“Stop doing what?” Kenny replied innocently.

“Well you need to just _stop_ in general,” Craig began, “But you _especially_ need to stop acting like you know me, because you don't.”

“I’m just--” Kenny started, but Craig cut him off.

“No, I’m not done,” he spoke again. “Whatever you were trying to prove, you did it a long time ago, and now you’re just being a dick,” Craig continued to lay into him, and surprisingly, Kenny didn’t try to talk over him. “Like, congratulations, you got me; my life isn’t as fulfilling as it could be. But so what? I _love_ Tweek. I feel _safe_ with him. And that’s enough for me. You think you know everything about me because you caught me at a time when I was vulnerable and easy to manipulate. But you don’t know _shit,”_ He finished, and Kenny just looked at him. 

Craig wasn't lying. At least, he didn't think he was. It was true that sometimes, especially recently, he felt bored with Tweek. That's how he had gotten himself all wrapped up in this mess in the first place. But after all of the bullshit Kenny had put him through in just a couple days, he was beginning to realize that maybe he liked it that way. Nothing too crazy ever happened when he was with Tweek. He was comfortably predictable. With Kenny, he never knew what was going to happen next; other than the fact that it would most likely be something completely insane, something that he would _definitely_  regret later, and _possibly_ illegal. And it was _painfully_  tiring. The only plus was that the sex was great. And even that came with a price; the guilt. And Craig decided that it wasn't worth it. At least, that's what he was thinking at the moment. He would probably change his mind again later. Who knows. Kenny was very persuasive. 

After a few moments of rather uncomfortable silence following Craig’s outburst, Kenny stepped away from the sink and closer to the noirette. “But is it _really_ enough for you, Craig?” He spoke, finally, and Craig responded by taking a step backwards, away from the blonde. “Let’s suppose for a minute that it’s not about what _I_ know, and it’s about what _you_ know,” he continued, taking another step forward. “What happened on Saturday proves that it’s _not_ enough for you. And _you_ know it,” _Another step_. “...And as much as you might want it to, denying it won’t make it go away.”

“Maybe not, but it might make _you_ go away,” Craig muttered, taking another step away from Kenny, but then his back was against the wall and he silently prayed that Kenny wouldn’t try to get any closer.

“I think you know _that's_ not true either,” Kenny replied, raising his eyebrows enticingly and taking _yet_ another step closer. _God dammit._

“Dammit Kenny, I don't wanna live the way you do!” Craig practically shouted, stepping away from the wall and over to the other side of the room before Kenny could try anything. “Unlike you, I have morals! I wanted that _once,_ and now I'm _done!”_

Something changed in Kenny’s expression. It happened very briefly, but still, it happened. And Craig didn’t know what exactly it was, but it made him wonder if he had _genuinely_ insulted the blonde with his reply. And a part of him felt bad, but then again, maybe that's what it took to get Kenny to back off. And if that was the case, maybe he didn't feel so bad after all. Not that he really should have either way.

“So what you're tryin’ to say is that you used me for some sorta cheap thrill and now you're done with me,” Kenny replied.

Craig nodded. “That's _exactly_ what I'm saying,” he spat.

“Well, you can't just--” Kenny started, but Craig didn’t let him finish.

“Why? Why can't I do that? Because _you're_ the one who's supposed to do that?” Craig spoke confidently. He was finally beginning to feel like _he_ was the one in charge in this conversation.

“Precisely,” Kenny nodded, his usual cocky demeanor making a return.

“Yeah, well, I hate to break it to ya, but this time I beat you to it,” Craig replied flatly. “And need I remind you that _you_ were the one who was so _relentless_ in trying to get me to give in?” He continued, _“You_ fucking started this!” He pointed out as well.

“Hey, I gave you a chance to walk away and you threw yourself at me instead,” Kenny replied defensively. “You made a _choice_ to keep this going when you knocked on my door again.”

“Yeah? Well now I'm _choosing_ not to be a part of this anymore,” Craig scoffed. “And you didn't _have_ to _answer_ the fucking door. Don't act like it was such an inconvenience for you,” he added.

“You're makin' a huge mistake, dude,” Kenny warned him.

“No, the mistake was everything leading up to this,” Craig remarked.

“If you say so,” Kenny shrugged, and Craig decided that it was probably a good time to leave.

“Yeah, that line got old a long time ago, by the way,” the noirette replied spitefully. “I'm gonna walk away now,” Right after he finished speaking, the bell rang, and Craig was extremely glad that he now had another excuse to leave, which he then did.

“You can't get rid of me that easily, Tucker!” Kenny called after him, and if that had been the easy way, Craig didn’t even want to know what the hard way was. Surprisingly, though, Kenny didn’t attempt to follow him, or try to stop him from leaving. Maybe even Kenny realized that at this point, there wasn't really anything else left to be said. Or maybe, he had decided to just let Craig win this round, because he knew that it wouldn't be the last; not if he had anything to do with it. _Yeah, that was probably it._

“Eat shit, McCormick!” Craig yelled back, raising a middle finger as he continued walking away. And although he sounded confident, and like he just didn’t give a fuck anymore, a big part of him was absolutely terrified. He already knew the consequences that came along with _giving in_ to Kenny’s advances; but he could only _imagine_ how much trouble he could potentially be in now that he’d pissed him off.

He knew that this was still  _far_ from over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter kinda sucked lol I'm sorry  
> The next one will be better


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! Alright hi so I just wanna mention that I actually went back and edited the chapter before this a little bit because I wasn't quite happy with it. I didn't change anything major, just added a few more details here and there because I just felt like it was kinda,,, lacking, idk. I literally only added like two paragraphs it's not that big of a deal, it was just bothering me a lot and I felt the need to improve it just a lil bit. So anyway, yeah, you don't HAVE to go back and read it again because it's not that much different, but you can if you want. I actually updated it only like, one or two days after I first uploaded the chapter though, and it's been like two weeks now, so a lot of you have probably already read the updated version but whatever, I just thought it was worth noting in case anyone went back and read it again and was like "Wait... this isn't the same..." lmao.
> 
> Now about this chapter,,, it's rlly long. It's over 7,000 words. Honestly idk how this happened. Like, I could've split this up into like 3 different chapters but oh well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe it'll make up for the last one.  
> I can't believe I haven't given up on this yet I'm honestly so shocked @ myself. I'm so invested in this ship it's ridiculous. Anyway sorry for the unnecessarily long note, I'll stop rambling now.

When Craig woke up with a hard-on on Tuesday morning, from a dream about Kenny, he knew that he was in for another particularly awful day. He seriously considered staying home from school, but he decided against it, because who knows what could happen if he wasn’t there to keep Kenny and Clyde from talking. This whole ‘living a lie’ thing really was exhausting.

When he finally got out of bed and made his way down the hall and to the bathroom, Craig looked in the mirror, and he didn’t recognize the person he saw staring back at him. It was the same face he always saw; the same body. But the person inside of it was just awful, he decided. An awful, dirty, lying bastard. After a few minutes of staring at his reflection in absolute hatred, he made the decision to stop looking in the mirror, before he did something stupid and overly dramatic, like punching the mirror and breaking the glass, then having to pick the tiny shards of glass out of his skin and wash the blood off of his hands as he looked in the mirror again, the image of himself finally distorted in the same way he had seen it _before_ the mirror had been broken. No, people only did things like that in the movies. And Craig’s life wasn’t quite interesting enough to be a movie. Well, maybe now it was, at the very least, dramatic enough. Maybe it was just  _him_ that wasn't interesting enough. 

He continued with his morning routine, a little slower than usual. When he took his shirt off to change, he caught sight of one of the now fading hickeys that he had received from Kenny on Saturday, and he sighed. It was just another reminder of what a piece of shit he was. He'd told Kenny _not_ to leave any marks, but of course, Kenny being Kenny, that had just made him want to do it even more. At least he'd had the decency not to leave any anywhere obvious, like on his neck. Craig forced himself to stop thinking about it as he finished getting ready, and then he walked to school all alone in the cold, terrified as he wondered what ridiculous and anxiety-inducing events the day would most likely bring. And he would soon find out.

Clyde caught up with him as he was walking into school and towards his first class, Craig having arrived later than he normally would, in order to avoid any unnecessary before-school drama. And yet, here it was, happening anyway.  _“We need to talk,”_  Clyde said in a hushed tone as he walked next to Craig, struggling to keep up with him when he responded by groaning and walking even faster. Clyde was chubby and got winded rather easily, which was a shame, considering his love for sports, and his inability to well, be good at playing them. “Dude, slow down,” Clyde pleaded, panting annoyedly. Craig didn’t obey, and kept walking, ignoring his friend. He wasn’t in the mood for more harassment. “You need to tell him _this week,_ Craig, I’m serious--”

Craig rolled his eyes and finally stopped walking, then turned to face his friend. “Oh my _god,_ I’m working on it, okay?” He snapped. “You need to _stop_ nagging me about it, dude, because you’re driving me insane. I’m _well aware_ of the severity of the situation,” He finished, and Clyde didn’t say anything; just glared at him. Craig took Clyde’s silence as an okay to walk away, and he started to, but then Clyde spoke again, at a volume that was much louder than what was appropriate for the topic of the conversation;

“I know that you slept with him.”

Craig froze in his tracks, eyes widening, and heart pounding with anxiety. His eyes then scanned the hallway quickly, making sure nobody had overheard, before he turned around to face Clyde again.

“I followed you to the bathroom yesterday. Heard you guys talking,” Clyde elaborated, and Craig clenched his teeth in anger. Why did Clyde  _insist_ on getting into his business constantly? “I knew there was more going on than what you were telling me,” Clyde added coldly.  

“What, so now you’re _stalking_ me?” Craig asked accusingly.

“Hey, it’s not stalking if I’m your _best_ _friend,”_ Clyde replied defensively. “And honestly, now I hate myself for not just telling Tweek right away, because apparently all I’ve done is give you more opportunities to make this even worse! Because you’re my friend and I felt _bad_ for you!” He whisper-yelled angrily, and Craig sighed. He wanted to be mad at what Clyde was saying, but he couldn’t, because he knew that it was all  _painfully_ true.

“...How much of our conversation did you hear?” Craig asked hesitantly, not quite sure that he wanted to know the answer.

Clyde sighed then. “...When I got there you were saying ‘Kenny no, not here’, and I left around…” he hesitated, “... _‘my best friend already thinks I’m the biggest piece of shit in the world now, and he only knows that I kissed you’,_ ” he repeated Craig’s words from the day before, and Craig winced.

“...Do you?” He asked, again not sure if he wanted to know the answer to his question.

Clyde sighed again. “Well I wouldn’t necessarily go as far as to say I think you’re the biggest piece of shit in the world, but,” he paused, and Craig frowned. _His best friend really was starting to hate him._ “I just-- I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Why are you _deliberately_ digging yourself deeper into this hole?” Clyde asked him. “...How could you do that to Tweek?”

“Fuck if I know, dude,” Craig replied, annoyed, but mostly just with himself, because he had asked himself that same question so many times and he couldn’t figure out the answer. “If you heard our conversation, you got a glimpse of how much of a sadistic dickhead Kenny is. He’s _refusing_ to let me out of this!” He continued frustratedly. “...I’m _trying,_ dude. I really am. After you left I told him to fuck off, and that I was _done_ playing games with him. But I'm telling you, dude, for real; he's fucking batshit insane. It's much easier said than done.”

Clyde crossed his arms in an accusatory manner. “Why should I believe that?”

Craig wanted to respond with, _‘Well fuck, Clyde, maybe if you’d had the patience to stay and listen to the rest of the conversation, you would know that I’m telling the truth’._ But he didn’t. Instead, he went with something more reasonable and less rude. “...I guess you have every right not to,” he replied remorsefully, which honestly, was true. He wasn’t really deserving of anybody’s trust anymore at this point.

“Yeah, you’re damn right I do,” Clyde replied harshly, and Craig had to try really hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his friend’s self-righteousness. “...Look,” the brunette started again, and Craig groaned to himself in his head. “Regardless of whether you’re telling _me_ the whole truth or not, you’d _better_ tell Tweek the whole truth,” Clyde scolded, Craig then going from annoyed back to anxious. He didn’t know that telling Tweek _every_ last detail was really the _best_ idea. “...He at least deserves that much,” Clyde finished, and Craig looked down at his feet. He couldn't let Clyde know that he didn't exactly plan on telling Tweek  _everything, o_ r anywhere close to it.

There was a long, tense pause before Craig spoke again. “I know,” He gulped, nodding in agreement, and then the bell rang and the two of them went their separate ways. But the tension from the conservation still hung in the air, haunting Craig as he walked to his first class of the day. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that, especially with his luck, this day would only be getting worse.

 

* * *

 

There was no assigned seating in the one class that Kenny and Craig had together. So that morning, when Craig took his usual seat all the way in the back of the classroom, Kenny came in and saw that the seat next to him was open, and a devious grin spread across his face as he walked over and sat down. Class having already started, Craig couldn’t get up and find somewhere else to sit, so he just accepted his fate, and prepared for an hour of suffering.

“Goodmorning, Craig,” Kenny looked at him, a neutral expression on his face. Well, about as neutral as Kenny could get, anyway. There was always _some_ degree of underlying smugness and sarcasm.

“It was until you showed up,” Craig muttered under his breath. It was most definitely a lie, but it was true that things couldn't possibly get _better_ under these particular circumstances, so what he had been through that morning with Clyde probably wouldn't seem all that bad by the end of this hour.

Kenny frowned. “Someone should really do something about that attitude of yours,” he spoke again. “And y'know, you should really be careful. One day you might piss off the wrong person and get yourself in trouble.”

Craig took that as a warning, and decided to shut up; not to make any more bold remarks. He didn't want to add more flame to the already raging fire. He didn't know what Kenny was planning, but he didn't want to give him any more reason to make it any worse.

_And then it began._

It started with Kenny resting a hand on his knee, about halfway through class, and Craig let out a quiet huff of frustration and annoyance. As more time went by, Kenny’s hand gradually moved up, eventually resting on his upper thigh. _“Stop it,”_ Craig whispered harshly, swatting Kenny’s hand away. Kenny chuckled quietly to himself, eyes still focused on the teacher up in the front of the classroom. A few minutes later, his hand returned to the same spot on Craig’s thigh, this time massaging the inner part of it lightly, and Craig bit his lip as he tried to focus on something else. The blonde looked at him then, enjoying watching Craig shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide his obvious hard-on. Thankfully, what was happening there in the very back of the classroom was going unnoticed by the other students, and the teacher. Craig silently thanked the god that he wasn’t sure existed that Clyde wasn’t also in this class. They made eye contact as Kenny started messing with the zipper of his jeans, and Craig glared at him before groaning in frustration as quietly as he could and getting up from his desk, taking the hall pass from the front of the room and then heading to the bathroom to take care of his… _problem._ He wasn't about to let Kenny give him a handjob during class. No fucking way.

Craig was rather surprised when Kenny didn’t follow him to the bathroom. Most likely, as usual, he had probably just been trying to prove a point. And when he did, that satisfied him enough for the moment. But not quite, because soon after Craig left the classroom, he got a text from Kenny;

 ** _Kenny:_** _remember what i told you. you can’t get rid of me that easily._

Craig angrily typed out a response to the message;

**_To: Kenny_ **

_‘you’re lucky we were in class or I would’ve fucking knocked you out.’_

Craig thought briefly that maybe he should stop making empty threats and just fucking punch the asshole right in his ridiculously, _unfairly_ attractive face. _Maybe then he wouldn’t be so damn pretty,_ Craig thought. But then he was brought out of his thoughts by his phone going off again;

 **_Kenny:_ ** _whatever you say. have fun jacking off._  

Maybe 'whatever you say' was the new 'if you say so'. 

 _‘_ _I’m blocking your number.’_ Craig texted back, but he didn’t, because missing texts from Kenny could potentially be dangerous. Instead, he turned his phone off, hoping that if he at least stopped responding, Kenny would leave him alone.

But of course, no matter how much he hoped, Craig knew that he wouldn’t.

 

* * *

 

Craig was _fucked_. That was pretty much the only way to put it, really. With Kenny and Clyde both harassing him, Craig knew that he only had one option; he had to tell Tweek what he did, before either of them had an opportunity to make the situation any worse than it already was (though he had already done a pretty good job of that all on his own). So that day after school, he invited Tweek over to his house, and he had never felt anything quite like the overwhelming sense of dread that he felt as they walked to his house together, hand in hand, Tweek still blissfully unaware of the events that had transpired over the weekend.

Craig had intended on telling him immediately when they got to his house; (he didn’t want to tell him at school because, as selfish as it sounded, he didn’t want Tweek to cause a scene and make him look like an asshole in front of the entire school.) ‘ _just get it over with’,_ he repeated to himself in his head as they got closer to his house. But when the time came for him to speak up as they sat silently next to eachother on Craig’s bed minutes later, he found himself unable to say anything. In fact, he could barely remember how to breathe. Sure, he’d felt guilty about the whole thing already; but being face to face with Tweek, trying to work up the courage to tell him? Well, that was a whole different story. A whole new level of _‘wow, I really am a piece of shit’._ Because the boy sitting next to him was so innocent and harmless, and he’d never had anything but good intentions. And Craig was about to crush him. All the time they spent building up trust in one another, all the problems they had overcome throughout the years; he had ruined it all in one weekend. All because he’d had a moment of weakness. ...Well, several moments. All because he’d let his craving for excitement get the best of him. And fuck if he knew _why_ that craving had been so strong, and so impossible to ignore, because fuck, he didn't even _like_ excitement. He never had. He preferred to stay in his comfort zone whenever possible, like most sane people did. But now, he'd taken a walk on the other side. And he _liked_ it. _God dammit, what had Kenny done to him?_

Hurting Tweek was the last thing that Craig had ever wanted to do; but somehow, it was the first thing he did, the minute he began to question his happiness. The very _moment_ things had started getting a _little_ more difficult than he was comfortable with. Maybe that was his problem; he wasn't a fighter. He was a runner. _A cheater._

“Hey, Craig?” Tweek broke the silence, snapping Craig out of his thoughts, which was probably a good thing, because Craig was about ready to jump out the window, being so overwhelmed with self-hatred in that moment.

“Y-yeah?” Craig stuttered in response. _Great, now on top of everything he was developing a stutter as well._

“I just,” Tweek started, placing a hand on top of Craig’s, which was resting on the bed. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry…” he trailed off.

Great. Now Tweek was apologizing when he had absolutely nothing to be sorry for, and this was really all Craig’s fault. Jesus Christ.

“What?” Craig turned to face him. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Well I just...I didn’t realize before that maybe you’ve been distant lately because you’re going through something,” he explained, and Craig felt even worse because Tweek wasn’t all jumpy and full of unwanted energy like he normally was, and Craig knew that he only got this calm when he was really tired, or _really_ sad. Or both. “I should be there for you instead of being all bitter about you not paying as much attention to me,” Tweek continued, now staring down at his feet, “I’m sorry,” he said again.

Craig took a deep breath. He felt like such a worthless piece of garbage that he _actually_ wanted to die. “...Tweek, look at me,” he spoke, placing a hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Tweek looked up, and when their eyes met and Craig saw how sad they looked, he felt like crying again. “You did _not_ do _anything_ wrong,” he said slowly and reassuringly, and Tweek smiled weakly, but he also kind of looked like he didn’t really believe Craig.

“A-are you sure?” He asked anxiously.

Craig responded by pulling Tweek into a tight hug and burying his face in the crook of his neck, and Tweek seemed startled but quickly wrapped his arms around the taller boy as well. “I love you so much,” Craig mumbled, and _God, this was killing him._ “I’m so sorry. For everything. I’ve been such a dick to you lately and you don’t deserve that,” he added, and it probably sounded rather dramatic and unnecessary to Tweek, because he _still_ didn’t know what his boyfriend had done behind his back over the weekend.

“I-I love you too, Craig,” Tweek replied, sounding a little confused, and they stayed like that for another two minutes or so. And then Tweek pulled away gently and placed a hand on Craig’s cheek, and kissed him for the first time in weeks, and Craig could’ve sworn that he literally felt his heart _break in half_ because he knew that Tweek probably wouldn’t even be able to _look_ at him, _if only he knew._

“Tweek?” Craig spoke up when they parted.

“Yeah?” Tweek smiled, and Craig didn’t have the guts to say what needed to be said, but he couldn’t let him leave either, and potentially find out some other way.

“...Do you wanna stay the night, maybe?” Craig suggested. “I mean, I know it’s a school night, but, we walk to school together all the time anyway. And this way you wouldn’t have to walk all the way here first, because y’know, you’re already here,” He spoke quickly and nervously.

“Oh, gosh-- I don’t know,” Tweek replied apprehensively. “My parents don’t really like it when I stay out on school nights--”

 _“Please,”_ Craig begged, unintentionally cutting off Tweek, who jumped a little bit when Craig spoke. “Sorry,” Craig spoke again, more calmly, and Tweek’s expression softened. “I just… really want you to stay.”

Tweek smiled warmly. “I’ll stay,” he agreed, scooting even closer to Craig and resting his head on his shoulder. And Craig selfishly savored every last moment, every little bit of the affection he was receiving, even though he definitely didn’t deserve it. Because he knew that this would most likely be the last time Tweek would even be able to look him in the eyes.

And he hated it. And he hated himself. _So much._

 

* * *

 

Being the coward that he was, Craig ended up not telling Tweek. He just couldn’t find the right time; the right _words._ And now Tweek was asleep next to Craig in his bed; he had been for hours, and Craig remained wide awake, panicking, trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to do. He knew that there was no easy way to say “I cheated on you”. But surely there _had_ to be a way to say it that made it sound a _little_ less terrible, _right?_ But after trying to think of one for at least an hour, maybe more, Craig came to the conclusion that no, there really wasn’t. In fact, there were really only ways to make it sound even worse.

Speaking of making things worse, around midnight, Craig’s phone buzzed, and he looked at it to see, of course, a text from Kenny;

 **_Kenny:_ ** _come outside._

Craig froze. So clearly, Kenny wasn’t dumb enough to fall for the “I’m blocking your number” bit. Craig began to panic even more; his mind was racing, and he found himself unable to move. _Now Kenny was showing up at his house? While he was with Tweek? What the fuck was wrong with him?_ Craig’s phone buzzed yet again;

 **_Kenny:_ ** _if you don’t come outside i’m gonna ring the doorbell. i know you don’t want that._

Craig’s eyes widened upon reading the message. If Kenny rang the doorbell, one of his parents might answer the door, or Tweek might wake up. So once again, Craig gave in, and he carefully got up out of his bed, trying his very best not to disturb Tweek. He tiptoed out of his bedroom, then down the hallway and down the stairs, making his way to the front door. He sighed before he opened the door, and then he was met with the all-too-familiar face of Kenny McCormick, and he prepared for the worst. “Tweek is here, you need to leave,” Craig spoke immediately upon opening the door. He thought he’d made it abundantly clear that he was done playing this game, but apparently he hadn’t. Or maybe Kenny just didn’t care. _Yeah, that was it._ In fact, there was no question about it.

“Oh, I know he’s here,” Kenny remarked confidently, “I uh, saw you guys walking after school.”

It was then that Craig decided Kenny must be insane. Like, literally insane.  “Alright I get that crossing the line is like, your thing, or whatever, but--”

“Hey, you’re finally starting to get it,” Kenny laughed, cutting Craig off.

“Right, but this is going _way_ too far,” Craig finished his sentence. “And honestly, this is getting a bit too repetitive for my taste,” He added, and he didn’t really know why, because it would only make the conversation longer, and he was just feeding into the game that Kenny just wouldn’t fucking agree to end.  

“Getting bored of me already?” Kenny raised his eyebrows amusedly.  

“No, just fucking annoyed,” Craig snapped. “We keep having the same conversation _over_ and _over_ again. If you’re really this desperate for a fuck buddy, there’s plenty of other people who are _more_ than willing to sleep with you. I honestly don’t understand what you’re even trying to do at this point,” he ranted, and Kenny just nodded silently and looked at him, as if he were contemplating something; planning out his next move carefully. “...Care to enlighten me?” Craig added annoyedly when the blonde remained silent, trying to stare right through him with those cold blue eyes. But apparently, that had been a very dumb thing to say.

It happened very abruptly. Before Craig even knew what was happening, he was being pushed back against the door of his house and Kenny was kissing him without any warning. He was about to push him off, or at least say _something_ to protest what he was doing, but then Kenny reached up and pulled his hair the way he knew turned Craig on, and then Craig was involuntarily moaning into his mouth instead. And there was that feeling again; that unexplainable _rush_ that made it impossible for him to resist temptation. But as soon as Craig submitted, dared to move his lips along with Kenny’s just _barely,_ the blonde pulled away. But still, he stayed close enough to keep Craig uncomfortable, yet slightly aroused. And Craig was disappointed but also relieved. His reckless indecisiveness would be the death of him; he was sure of it. It was amazing how being horny enough could  absolutely _destroy_ his ability to think rationally. All that effort he'd put into trying to get Kenny to fuck off the day before was now completely irrelevant; because he had slipped up once again, and proven that he wasn't as sure that he wanted to be  _done_ with Kenny as he'd insisted he was. 

“You feel that?” Kenny asked Craig, who was embarrassedly struggling to avoid making eye contact. “That’s straight-up lust, Craig,” he continued, grabbing ahold of the taller boy’s chin and forcing him to look at him. “You can’t get enough of me, and you know it,” he smiled sarcastically, “I can see it in your eyes… Do you feel that when you kiss Tweek?”

Why Kenny felt the need to prove Craig’s obvious attraction to him, when he had already slept with him, Craig had no idea. But Kenny could get him turned on _so_ easily, so _effortlessly,_ and it really wasn’t helping him convince Kenny that he _didn’t_ want to keep doing this with him. Because he _did_ want it. He couldn’t ignore his body, constantly reminding him of it every time he allowed Kenny to get a _little_ too close to him. But he also couldn’t ignore his mind, which was _screaming, “What the fuck is wrong with you, you idiot? You need to put a stop to this right now!”_ It was maddening, struggling to decide which one he should listen to. Most of the time he felt like he didn't really have a choice at all. He felt like he had so little control, over _either_ of them. It had seemed so easy to tell Kenny to fuck off the day before, but today, the sexual frustration that he was feeling was notably more intense, especially after what Kenny had done at school earlier, and the dream that Craig had had about him the night before. And it was almost _impossible_ not to just give in. But then there was the fact that they were at Craig’s house, where Tweek was asleep in his bedroom upstairs, so he didn’t really have the option to give in either. There was nowhere to run, whether he gave in or not. He had no idea where this situation was going, but either way, he didn’t like it. Or maybe he did. It was a frustrating combination of both, as always.  

“No, I feel _love_ when I kiss Tweek,” Craig retorted, but he knew that it was pointless. Kenny didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’, and he would never back off, no matter how much Craig insisted that he was done with him. That was pretty much the only thing Craig knew for sure. He didn’t know why Kenny was so determined to make his life a living hell, but he knew full well that he would never get a straight answer if he dared to ask, so he didn’t.

“But are the feelings just as strong as when you kiss _me?”_ Kenny continued interrogating him, moving his thumb to rest teasingly on Craig’s bottom lip, and Craig didn’t know what he expected him to say. _Yes? No?_ Both were partially a lie. The feeling he got when he kissed Tweek had at one point been just as strong, if not stronger. Because it was _love_ that he had been feeling. But it wasn’t anymore. Now Craig felt as though the only feeling he knew anymore was the one that he was experiencing right now; deep hatred that had somehow manifested itself into uncontainable lust and _unbearable_ sexual tension.

Craig sighed. “What do I have to do to get you to stop harassing me?” He used the Kenny technique; answering a question that he couldn't answer, with another question.  

“Why would I stop when I’ve got you right where I want you?” The blonde did it right back, now moving his thumb to stroke Craig’s cheek. It sickened Craig; how much Kenny was enjoying this. “There’s really nothing you _can_ do. Nothing that won’t just get you into more trouble. You’re pretty good at getting yourself into trouble, aren’t you, Craig?” Kenny continued, and Craig glared at him with even more hatred than he had felt looking at himself in the mirror that morning. “You’re pretty ballsy though, I’ll give you that,” Kenny _kept fucking talking,_ “You’re lucky I didn’t run and tell Tweek everything after the way you were talking to me yesterday.”

Craig hated being reminded that he had so very few options in this situation; so little power. As long as Kenny could blackmail him like this, he had every last bit of the power. He got to call the shots, until he decided that he was sick of it. _Kenny was untouchable._ Well, in the metaphorical sense of the word, anyway. In the literal sense of the word, he was the very opposite.

Craig really regretted acting like he hadn’t cared before, because Kenny was right; it could’ve gotten him into trouble. It probably should have. He deserved it for being so goddamn stupid… but wait, was he _really_ as stupid as he felt? Both of the options that he had; giving in or fighting him, were equally as bad, and equally as dangerous. He knew that Kenny was not actually being generous by not ratting him out to Tweek, and he had only done it so that he could use it against him now, as a warning, no, as a _threat,_ as if to say; “next time, I’ll do it”. And deep down, Craig knew that Kenny was nothing more than a manipulative, deceptive, sadistic asshole. But the problem was that he was so _good_ at the art of manipulation, and maybe even more notably, the art of seduction, and Craig found himself always falling for it; _allowing_ himself to be manipulated, _constantly_. Because quite honestly, there was just no way out. No way that he could see, anyway.

“What do you want from me?” Craig asked weakly, basically giving Kenny permission to take this wherever he wanted to. Not like he wouldn’t have anyway.

“I wanna help you,” Kenny whispered, leaning closer, and Craig scoffed.

“Help me _what?”_

 _“Live,”_ Kenny replied, and the way his eyes lit up when he said it kind of scared Craig. He wondered how many people Kenny had used that line on before; and how many of them had given in, and allowed Kenny to ruin their lives completely, all because Kenny had managed to convince them that they were unhappy, and needed more excitement in their lives; _‘excitement’_ being a codename for outright, blatant self-destruction. But Craig didn’t blame them; he knew how hard it was to say no to someone who was seemingly offering you _so_ much, and it was oh so easy to get caught up in the mystery. And he also knew that no matter how hard he tried to resist, he was doomed to end up just like all of those people that Kenny had gotten ahold of before him; and he had been since the very first time he tasted those venomous lips of his. Craig didn’t know entirely what the blonde’s true intentions were at this point, but he knew that they were far from good. Still, that didn’t stop Craig’s longing for more physical contact. And the fact that Kenny was still close enough that Craig could feel his breath on his lips definitely wasn't helping.

Craig looked at Kenny; his messy blonde hair and his enticing, determined grey-blue eyes, and he couldn't help but wish that he had known what he’d been getting himself into when he had kissed him for the first time. But perhaps it didn't matter, because now he knew, and still, as he looked at him now, knowing what he could have if he just gave in, knowing what they _could_ be doing right now; he wanted it. And because he was so easily persuaded, and so _very_ good at destroying his life through brief yet intense encounters with Kenny McCormick, he nodded; as if to give Kenny permission, to help show him how to ‘live’.

Kenny’s blue eyes lit up with excitement and satisfaction again, proud of himself for finally getting through to Craig, or maybe Craig had just finally run out of willpower, and the taller boy felt as though he was quite literally signing his life away as he frantically grabbed Kenny’s face and pressed their lips together again. _God, Kenny was so pretty._ Maybe that was the only real reason it was so hard not to give in to his advances. If Craig were in this exact same situation with someone completely undesirable, like Kenny’s once very close friend Eric Cartman, for instance, surely this wouldn’t be so goddamn difficult.

Craig thought that by now, he probably should've been practically immune to Kenny’s manipulation techniques; but here he was again, willingly falling right into his trap for the sake of getting off. His body had won over his mind this time, he guessed. _Fuck it,_ Craig thought. _He was gonna lose Tweek anyway._

 _..._ Okay, maybe he really _was_ just stupid. Or a terrible person. Probably both.

As soon as Kenny reacted, smirking against Craig’s mouth and kissing him back fiercely with those lips that were way too skilled in this department, Craig again became aware of the fact that they were outside, and they had nowhere private to go. “Someone’s gonna see us,” he breathed.

The shorter male simply pulled away and shrugged, playing with the hem of Craig’s shirt. “You’d better let me inside, then,” he said nonchalantly.

“Dude, no, Tweek and my parents are asleep upstairs, you can’t just--” Craig tried to protest, but Kenny cut him off.

“Asleep, huh? Interesting,” Kenny smirked. _Fuck, maybe Craig shouldn’t have said that._ “You’ve got a downstairs bathroom, don’t you?” Kenny asked, raising his eyebrows temptingly, and Craig shot him a look of apprehension. “Changing your mind again? There's a shock,” the blonde added mockingly, and it pissed Craig off enough to agree to go along with his outrageous suggestion.

“Alright, fine,” He shot back boldly, but inside, he was still feeling more than just a little uncomfortable with where this was going. Maybe that was a small indication that Kenny hadn't made him lose his mind, more specifically his sense of morality, _entirely_ yet. _Keywords being 'entirely' and ‘yet’. He was definitely on his way there._ Craig hesitantly reached behind him and opened the door to his house before pulling Kenny inside by his arm, similar to what Kenny had done to him on Saturday, when Craig had shown up unannounced at _his_ house. This really _was_ getting a little too repetitive. “You'd better be fucking _quiet,”_ Craig whispered as he shut the door behind them. He couldn't believe that he was doing this. He really couldn't. This was a new low; even for him. Not so much for Kenny, though. He had probably done much worse things in his life.

Kenny responded by placing a hand on Craig’s shoulder and whispering in his ear; “You're the one who's gonna have to worry about being quiet.”

Craig shuddered. “I-I should probably go check and see if Tweek is still asleep--” he winced internally as the words left his mouth, once again being reminded of how disgustingly fucked up this was.

“Don't do that, dumbass, you'll just end up waking him up,” Kenny whispered in response. “He hasn't come looking for you yet. He's obviously asleep.”

“But what if he wakes u--”

“Well fuck, Craig, if you _actually_ care that much about Tweek, then maybe I should leave,” Kenny suggested, cutting Craig off.

 _“No,”_ He replied all too frantically, his grip on the blonde’s arm tightening significantly, and then he mentally cursed himself; Kenny had given him an out, which was an _incredibly_ rare occurrence, and he was too dumb and horny to take it. But then again, Kenny had probably just said it to prove a point; he had known _exactly_ how Craig would react. So had it _really_ been a no-consequences opportunity for him to back out of this? Not really.

“Didn't think so,” Kenny replied smugly. “Y’know, I feel bad for Tweek, though,” he continued, “...His boyfriend is kind of a slut.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,’ Craig whispered angrily.

The blonde leaned up to whisper into Craig’s ear again. “Then don’t be one,” he said, then taking the other male’s earlobe between his teeth and tugging on it lightly.

“Like you should fucking talk,” Craig whispered shakily, trying extremely hard to contain himself because they were still out in the open, but then he let out a quiet gasp as Kenny began sucking a bruise into the skin behind his ear. _"Stop it, you asshole, I can't cover that up,"_ He said, though he really didn't want Kenny to stop.

"Oh please, you know you love it," Kenny chuckled, and Craig decided that it was probably a good time for them to make their way to the bathroom. It was honestly amazing that nobody had heard them yet. "Cover it up with some makeup. You're a fag, you must have some laying around somewhere," Kenny added. 

Craig rolled his eyes. "I fucking hate you so much," he muttered, and Kenny smirked. "Now come on,"  Craig said, tugging on Kenny's arm, and then he dragged him down the hallway and to the bathroom, locking the door behind them. Kenny immediately backed him up against the counter, fingers digging into his hipbones through his jeans, Craig then grabbing ahold of the countertop behind him for support. But soon enough, those pesky second thoughts, or as they could be more accurately described; _rational_ thoughts, crept back into his brain, and once again, he found himself not being quite okay with going through with something so immoral and dirty. “Kenny, I don't know if I can do this,” He breathed, and Kenny rolled his eyes.

“Y’know, your indecisiveness fascinates me, Craig. It really does,” He spoke, still whispering. “Quite honestly, that's the one thing about you that I can't quite figure out; if you _really_ don't know what you want, or if you just _act_ that way because you're with Tweek, and you wanna come off like you _think_ this is wrong, to make it seem a _little_ less terrible that you're doing it anyway,” He said, as if he were giving Craig much of a goddamn choice.  

“This _is_ wrong,” Craig whispered back harshly. Shouldn't that have been obvious? To _anyone?_

“Mm,” the blonde hummed, “But that doesn't mean you don't love it anyway,” he pressed a knee into the taller male’s crotch, and it took everything in him not to moan. "In fact, I think the fact that someone could catch us at any minute just turns you on even  _more,"_ Kenny applied more pressure with his knee. 

 _“Fuck, Kenny--”_ Craig inhaled sharply, on impulse. _“Please,_ just--”

Kenny cut off Craig's indecisive rambling by clapping a hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. “Y’know, you're a lot more submissive than I ever would've thought you'd be,” he pointed out amusedly, and Craig’s cheeks went red. “Now try to be quiet, alright? We wouldn't want your boyfriend to wake up,” Kenny spoke again, and Craig looked him in the eyes and nodded in compliance. “Good,” the blonde nodded back before removing his hand, then kneeling down on the floor in front of the taller boy, and Craig got nervous all over again as Kenny unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, then pulled them down, along with his boxers. He was so conflicted. There was a part of him that still wanted to somehow prove that he wasn’t this weak; that he could resist. But at the same time, he knew that he had already proven that he most definitely _was_ this weak, and he was also quite literally aching for Kenny to just get on with it already. But that didn't stop him from worrying about how risky this was.

“What if we get cau--” He started without thinking, but he soon cut himself off with a barely audible _“Fuck,”_ when he felt the other male’s mouth on him, and then followed up with an embarrassingly desperate-sounding _“Don't stop,”_ his grip on the countertop tightening significantly.And soon enough, he was reduced to nothing but a mess of muffled gasps and suppressed moans, and all he could do was bite his lip, squeeze his eyes shut, and tangle his fingers in the blonde’s hair as he continued.

God, he was so fucked.

 

* * *

 

Kenny had officially won. Not that he had ever really been losing. It was his game, after all. He made the rules. He’d always had the upper hand. But now, Craig had given in one too many times to ever be taken seriously again. The first time he had kissed Kenny, it was an impulse that he hadn’t tried all that hard to control. When he had slept with him, it was a conscious decision that came with more consequences than Craig had originally anticipated. Letting Kenny blow him in his downstairs bathroom while his boyfriend was asleep in his bed upstairs? Well, that was strike three, not to mention it had been done knowing full well what the consequences were. And as they say in baseball; _three strikes, you’re out._

It was around two in the morning now. Kenny was gone, having left very shortly after doing what he came to do. Meanwhile, Craig still had himself locked in the bathroom, sitting on the cold tile floor with his back against the wall and his head in his hands. He felt like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and as much as he wanted to stand up, he was afraid he might catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror and not be able to resist the urge to shatter it into a million pieces. It didn’t seem so overly dramatic now, like it had that morning. So he sat there for a few more minutes, sobbing silently and feeling sorry for himself. _How could he let this happen again?_

Eventually, he found the strength to wipe the tears from his eyes and stand up, mentally preparing himself to face Tweek. He couldn't stall _any_ more; he had to take care of this _right_ _now._ He left the bathroom still crying a little bit, slowly making his way back upstairs; _very_ slowly. He spent almost an entire minute on each stair, hoping that maybe he would get lucky and a meteor would hit the house or something, and then he wouldn’t have to deal with this. But eventually he made his way up the staircase and down to the end of the hallway where his bedroom was, and he hesitated before reaching for the doorknob and turning it slowly, the door creaking as it opened. Craig looked over at his bed to see that Tweek was still asleep, but a few seconds later, his eyes fluttered open. Somehow Tweek, quite possibly the lightest sleeper in the word, had slept through everything that had just transpired downstairs, but when Craig had cracked the bedroom door open just a _little,_ suddenly he was a light sleeper again, and he woke up immediately. “Craig?” Tweek said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey,” Craig replied, his voice shaky and weak, and then Tweek looked more alarmed as he realized that Craig was crying, and he quickly sat up in the bed.

“What’s wrong, Craig?” He asked worriedly and innocently.  

Craig sniffled and then took a deep breath. This was _long_ overdue. “Tweek… I have to tell you something.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol yikes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Kenny is such a dick in this story, and he's gonna be for most of it, please don't hate me lol.  
> Also it's gonna get more Angsty™ from here on out, maybe not in like, the very next chapter, but the second half of the story in general and definitely a lot more towards the end. Lol I keep thinking I know where I'm going with this story but because I outlined the plot SUPER roughly and didn't do a ton of planning out the actual details, it keeps ending up going in a completely different direction that I thought it was going to. So that's fun.
> 
> Also !! I just wanna say thanks for all of the nice comments, even if I don't respond to your comment I definitely appreciate it. Sometimes I just don't know how to respond and I overthink it too much and end up not responding at all aaaaa


	6. Chapter 6

“Tweek, I have to tell you something,” Craig said weakly, and he could see the anxiety in Tweek’s eyes. He was wide awake now.

“...What is it?” Tweek asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.  

Craig felt sick to his stomach. He buried his face in his hands again as he leaned against the doorway of his room. He couldn’t bring himself to look Tweek in the eyes. “...You’re gonna hate me so much,” He mumbled, and then he was sobbing again. “I’m so sorry,” he added, but it was barely coherent.

“Craig, you're scaring me,” Tweek replied anxiously. “What is it?”

Craig shook his head. “I don't think I can say it,” He sobbed, though it was muffled due to the fact that he was talking into his hands, refusing to look up at Tweek.

“Craig, _tell me,”_ Tweek pleaded, the panic in his tone becoming even more evident.

Craig took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down before he spoke, so he wouldn’t have to repeat what he was about to say. _This is it,_ he thought. _Nothing will ever be the same again._ “...I slept with Kenny,” he confessed, finally. And then he looked up at Tweek ashamedly.

And there was no big reaction, like one would expect; especially from Tweek. There were no tears or dramatic outbursts of anger. None of that. Tweek simply stared down at the ground, and uttered one single word; “Oh.”

“Tweek, I'm so sorry,” Craig spoke frantically, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to Tweek, who immediately scooted down to the other end of the bed, away from Craig. _Fuck,_ Craig thought to himself. _He had spent way too much time just straight-up avoiding this situation, and not figuring out how he would actually handle it._ “I never meant for it to happen. And I was gonna tell you earlier but I just couldn--”

“Did it happen more than once?” Tweek asked dully, cutting Craig off. His fingernails were digging into the sheet on the bed; scratching at it out of anger and anxiety.

 _"No,”_ Craig replied quickly. It wasn’t technically a lie, right? Just stretching the truth… a lot. Clearly, he still hadn’t learned his lesson.

“When?”

“Saturday.”

“Oh,” Tweek said again. And then there was a long, _painful_ silence before he spoke again. “...Why, Craig?” He looked up at the taller male again, tears forming in his eyes now, and Craig felt his heart drop just from knowing that he was the cause of it. He sighed.

“...I don't know,” He answered. And it wasn't a lie. He really, _really didn't fucking know._  

“Don't you think I deserve a better explanation than that?” Tweek asked, his voice more firm this time; more _angry._

“Yes,” Craig replied instantly. “Of fucking _course_ you do, Tweek, and I wish I had one to give you but I _don't._ I just--”

“Was he good?” Tweek interrupted him, and Craig’s eyes widened.

_"What?”_

“You heard me.”

 _Fuck. How the fuck was Craig supposed to answer that?_ “Well, I mean--” He started, but he was quickly cut off again.

“Y'know what, nevermind, I don't wanna know the answer to that,” Tweek said quickly, scratching at the bedsheet anxiously again, and Craig slowly and cautiously scooted a little bit closer to him,  and gently placed his hand on top of his in an attempt to calm him down, but it only made Tweek pull his hand away immediately and rest it elsewhere.

“Tweek, please don't hate me,” Craig pleaded, though Tweek had absolutely every right to hate him for the rest of his life.

“Does anyone else know?” Tweek asked, not acknowledging Craig’s pleading.   

“Just Clyde," Craig answered. "And he was gonna tell you if I didn't, so don't be mad at him."

“I'm not,” Tweek replied, “I’m mad at _you,”_ He added, and Craig knew that Tweek’s words were justified, but they still stung.  “...Is there anything else I should know?” Tweek asked.

_Oh boy._

“No,” Craig insisted. “It only happened once, I _swear,”_ He wondered if Tweek could tell that he was lying. As much as he hated doing it, he didn’t want to hurt Tweek even more by telling him the truth.

Tweek hesitated before asking his next question. “Did you guys kiss? ...On the lips?”

Craig sighed, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He figured he might as well try to be _somewhat_ honest. “...Yeah. A couple times,” He forced out.

“...Oh,” Tweek repeated, looking down at the floor again, his voice cracking, and the tears were streaming down his face now. And Craig wondered if the fact that he had _kissed_ Kenny hurt Tweek even more than the fact that he had slept with him. Obviously, it had been important enough to him for him to ask about it.

“Tweek I'm so fucking sorry,” Craig apologized again, awkwardly placing a hand on Tweek’s shoulder, but he pushed it off immediately.

“Please don't touch me,” He said quietly. Craig knew that none of his efforts to comfort Tweek would be successful but he just didn't know what else to do. “...Y’know what, I think I'm gonna go,” Tweek stood up.  

“Dude, it's almost three in the morning you can't just leave,” Craig attempted to talk him into staying. He got why Tweek wanted to leave, but he worried about what might happen if he let him go off by himself. He’d always had a tendency to develop some mildly… _unhealthy_ coping mechanisms.

In elementary school, he’d had a nasty habit of tearing his hair out when he was anxious. In middle school, he stopped ripping out his hair and opted for scratching himself instead, sometimes until he was bleeding. He would come to school with his arms covered in bandages, and he freaked out whenever anybody tried to touch him. Over the past couple years, with Craig’s help, Tweek had gotten a lot better. And despite Tweek’s constant worrying that he was a burden, Craig had never minded helping him. But now, if anything was gonna trigger a relapse; well, it would most likely be this. Tweek had never really done anything _drastic,_ but Craig still worried.

There had been one incident in the eighth grade. Four years ago. He and Tweek were still just close friends back then. Tweek had been put on medication for his anxiety and frequent panic attacks. And one day at school, during one of said panic attacks, it all became too much for him and he downed quite a few more of his pills than he was supposed to take. And Craig walked in on him having a full-on meltdown in one of the bathrooms at school. Tweek had _begged_ him not to tell anyone; _“Gah! No! They’ll think I’m crazy!”_ He’d said. _“It was an accident!”_ But Craig had dragged him to the school nurse anyway, and then he was taken to the hospital in an ambulance. It was a rather dramatic scene, especially because it had ended up not being a big deal at all; _“He’s gonna be absolutely fine. He just took a couple more than the recommended dose,”_ Craig was informed. _“We’ll just have his parents administer his medication from now on.”_ And then Craig felt like an idiot for overreacting so much, though the doctors and Tweek’s parents assured him that he had done the right thing.

That was the first time Craig had realized how much he cared about Tweek.

Remembering that day made him feel sick now, given the current circumstances; and where he stood with Tweek now. And sure, it had been an accident that time. But it also showed that Tweek could be a bit impulsive. And that’s what was worrisome to Craig, even though it had been so very long ago. “Fuck, at least let me walk with you and make sure you get home safe,” He offered, but he was more begging than offering at this point.     

“No,” Tweek replied firmly. He had already put his shoes back on and now he was reaching for his jacket. “I need to be alone right now. And _far_ away from _you,”_ He added coldly, and then Craig felt like he was about to cry...  _again._ Because Craig had once been Tweek’s main source of happiness; of comfort; of _protection._ But now, after one brief exchange of words, he was the source of the very pain that he needed to be protected from. And Craig felt like a fucking _monster._  

“I--” He started again, but he couldn’t think of anything worth saying, so then he just sighed. “Okay,” Tweek had his jacket on now and he was making his way over to the door of Craig’s bedroom. And when he stopped for a moment to look back at Craig before he left, Craig spoke up one more time. “...Are we over?” He asked.

Tweek sighed then. “I don't know,” he paused. “... I need to think.”

Craig swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded at Tweek, and then he turned to leave. “...Please be careful on your way home, Tweek,” Craig said quietly.

Tweek scoffed. “No promises,” He muttered as he walked away, and Craig felt his anxiety levels rising again.

As soon as he heard the front door open and close downstairs, he quickly reached for his phone and dialed Clyde’s number, even though he knew that his friend was most likely asleep. When he didn’t answer, Craig called him again, and that time he picked up.

“Dude, do you know what fucking time it is?” Clyde groaned.

“Sorry,” Craig sighed, and then he hesitated before speaking again. “...I just told him.”

“Oh,” Clyde replied, his tone more serious, though he still sounded like he was half asleep. “...How did he take it?”

“He just left my house really upset, and I’m kinda worried, and I know you’re trying to sleep, but--” Craig was speaking so quickly he wasn’t even sure Clyde could understand him. “Can you please--”

Clyde sighed. “Do you want me to go find him?”

“...Would that be asking too much?” Craig asked apprehensively.

“Yes,” Clyde replied, sounding more than just a little annoyed. “...But I’ll do it anyway,” He agreed.  

Craig sighed in relief. “Thank you _so_ much. I _swear_ I’ll make it up to you, dude.”

Clyde scoffed. “Yeah, sure,” He said in a rather snide matter, and there was a brief silence before either of them said anything else. “...Are _you_ okay?” Clyde asked then, and Craig was honestly shocked that he was asking. He had been convinced that Clyde 100% hated him at this point.

“Y-yeah,” Craig stuttered. It didn’t sound very convincing. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m just worried about Tweek.”

“...Okay,” Clyde sighed. “...You owe me for this, dude,” He added sternly, and then he hung up.

And then there was just silence. Craig sat there and stared at nothing in particular, feeling rather numb. And then for some reason, he started talking to himself. 

 _"Well? Was it fucking worth it?"_ He asked himself out loud. He was crying yet again. _"Are you happy now?"_

And then he felt a sudden rush of frustration and he chucked his phone across the room, and it hit the wall pretty hard and then fell to the ground. He didn’t bother to get up and check if it was broken. He didn’t have the energy. So he left it there and let out a quiet sigh before he laid down in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't close his eyes because he knew that he wouldn’t sleep anyway. 

And he knew that Kenny was probably sleeping just fine.

 

* * *

 

Going to school the next day was a bad choice. But it wasn’t surprising that Craig was making another one of those.

He hadn’t managed to get any sleep; his phone had buzzed around four in the morning and he finally got out of bed to pick it up, and there was a text from Clyde, along with a huge crack across the bottom on the screen. But at least it was still functional.

 **_Clyde:_ ** I found him at Stark’s Pond. He’s crying a lot but he’s fine.

Craig felt a little relieved after that but the guilt and anxiety still kept him wide awake, and now it was seven in the morning and his alarm was going off, and he groaned before getting up and getting ready for school. Except he didn’t really ‘get ready’; he didn’t shower, or brush his teeth, or his hair. He didn’t even so much as glance at himself in the mirror. He just threw on a fresh set of clothes and then walked to school.

On his way into the building he walked past Kenny’s usual before-school smoking spot and of course, he was there. But he didn’t say anything; just continued smoking his cigarette as Craig passed by, watching him, then winking at him when they made eye contact, to which Craig promptly responded by flipping him off. As he walked to his locker he once again couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone’s eyes were on him; except this time, he couldn’t be sure that he was imagining it. _Rumors spread fast in South Park._ He tried his hardest to ignore the feeling as he grabbed the materials that he needed for his first class from his locker, then slammed it shut angrily, and he jumped a bit when he suddenly saw Kenny standing there in front of him.

“Wow. You look like shit, Tucker,” Kenny remarked, and Craig couldn’t deny that he was right. In addition to the fact that he hadn’t bothered to do anything to make himself look even mildly presentable that morning, every night that he didn’t sleep, the dark circles under his eyes got a little bit darker. Craig looked and felt like an absolute wreck and he just didn’t fucking care anymore.

“Had to finish your cigarette before you could come harass me?” Craig spoke, not making eye contact with Kenny, who chuckled in response. “I’m not in the mood, McCormick,” Craig snapped, though truthfully, he was never exactly ‘in the mood’ to deal with Kenny’s bullshit. He couldn’t imagine that anyone ever was.

“Aw, did someone not get enough sleep last night?” Kenny teased him. “I can’t imagine why. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Craig really just wanted Kenny to shut up, so he said something that he knew would throw him off; “I told him,” He replied flatly, “So, you win, I guess,” He added. Kenny looked a bit taken aback then, and at that moment Craig happened to glance over Kenny’s shoulder and catch sight of Tweek, who was making his way towards them. _Ah, fuck._ They made eye contact and then Tweek spoke;

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” He asked sarcastically, and then Kenny turned around to face him, a rather smug look on his face, as per usual. “Y’know what, actually, this is good, Craig. Because now you’ll get to see me do _this,”_ Tweek spoke again, and Craig didn’t even have time to panic before he saw Tweek’s fist come into contact with Kenny’s face; hitting him right in the mouth. Kenny flew backwards from the blow and Craig looked at Tweek in shock, who was looking down at his hand and wincing in pain, as he probably hadn’t realized that punching somebody would hurt so much. Craig couldn’t believe that Tweek had ended up being the one who had enough guts to do what someone probably should’ve done to Kenny ages ago; and what he himself had wanted to do since their very first interaction the previous week.

“Holy shit!” Craig heard Eric Cartman’s voice from somewhere else in the hallway, and even though Tweek wasn’t throwing any more punches, there was a crowd forming around them as Kenny regained his balance, bringing a hand up to his face to wipe away the little bit of blood from his lip.

Like most people did, Craig knew that throughout history, high school students had always been notorious for being really into two things; drama, and sex. And this? Well, this was the first thing; and it had been _caused_ by the second thing. It was almost _too_ perfect. Because although there was always _plenty_ of drama at South Park High, it had been quite a while since any of said drama had escalated into an actual physical confrontation (on school grounds, anyway), and the students in the crowd forming around Kenny, Tweek, and Craig were eager for a show. Fights always drew attention; that was a given. But Craig knew that this one in particular would be talked about for weeks, maybe even months; because this one in particular involved Kenny McCormick, and also the school’s only well-known out-of-the-closet gay couple. So yeah, it wasn’t exactly the most ideal situation for Craig to be caught up in the middle of. But then again, the circumstances of his life in general had certainly been less than ideal lately as well. The only difference was that now, his private life was about to become the entire school’s business; similar to what happened when he and Tweek had first gotten together.

“I gotta hand it to ya, kid, you’re stronger than ya look,” Kenny spoke, and Craig knew that this would _definitely_ be ending even worse than it started, as long as Kenny could help it.

“Th-that’s for _fucking my boyfriend,”_ Tweek stuttered angrily, earning some gasps and _“oooo”_ ’s from the crowd. Tweek had been trying _really_ hard to sound intimidating, but Craig (and probably everyone else as well) could hear the obvious nervousness and shakiness in his voice. _The stutter always gave him away._ Craig couldn’t even imagine how unbelievably _pissed_ Tweek must’ve been, to put himself in a situation like this. He was never one for attention, or confrontation of any kind. But now, he had the attention of the entire school. And of course, of all the people he could’ve chosen to pick his first fight with, he had chosen Kenny. At this point, Craig wasn’t even sure that it really was _Tweek_ that he had just seen clock Kenny McCormick in the jaw, and he couldn’t help but suspect that maybe it was just somebody who looked a lot like him.  

Craig could feel everyone’s eyes on him, for real this time. He could just barely make out some of the muffled whispers between the students who were watching the drama play out from a safe distance;

_-“Would Kenny really do that?”_

_-“Definitely wouldn’t put it past him. It’s Craig cheating on Tweek that I can’t believe.”_

_-”Yeah, Craig’s always been kind of a dick, but not_ _that_ _much of a dick.”_

 

 _-“That was a dumb move on Tweek’s part, even if he_ _was_ _fucking around with Craig. Kenny could kill that kid with one punch.”_

_-”Yeah, remember when he knocked Cartman out cold in one hit at that party freshman year?”_

Kenny looked over at Craig, who was just standing there, frozen, watching this all unfold before his eyes, in complete and utter shock, and Craig prayed to every god imaginable that Kenny would keep his fucking mouth shut, and not say what he thought he was about to say. But he could tell from the sadistically mischievous look that Kenny was giving him that keeping his mouth shut was the very last thing on his mind. _“Ohh,_ so you _did_ tell him,” Kenny said knowingly, raising his eyebrows amusedly. Craig glared at him threateningly, clenching his teeth in anger, but inside he was silently pleading, _begging_ Kenny to stop talking. But of course, he didn’t. “Did you happen to tell him what happened last night, Craig? Or did you leave that part out?”

 _“Kenny, I swear to god,”_ Craig said sharply through his gritted teeth, hands balling up into fists at his sides, and Tweek then turned his attention back to him.

“...What happened last night, Craig?”

“Yes, Craig, do tell,” Kenny added smugly, and Craig made a mental note to remember to beat the absolute living _fuck_ out of Kenny later; for real this time.

“I--” He started, but that was all he could manage to get out. How could he admit to something like that, in front of _everyone?_ “I uh--” He stammered again nervously, suddenly becoming more aware of the fact that everyone’s eyes were on him; watching, waiting. But this time, Kenny interrupted.

“What, you’re not gonna own up to it?” He laughed, and all eyes were on Kenny again briefly, and he seemed to enjoy the attention a lot. But then it was Craig’s turn to respond, and everyone in the small crowd of students looked to him again. His eyes scanned the crowd and he found Clyde, who was glaring at him disapprovingly, arms crossed, waiting for him to speak. Obviously, Clyde wouldn’t be coming to his rescue. He saw Bebe as well, standing next to Wendy. Her eyes were widened in shock and she had a hand over her mouth; she had probably just put together why Kenny had been looking for him at her party that weekend. Craig made eye contact with her briefly and she shot him a look that was full of pity and judgement at the same time. ”No?” Kenny spoke again, giving him one last chance to say something, before _he_ did. And Craig just looked at him, not knowing what to do. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die right then and there. When Craig said nothing, Kenny looked back over at Tweek, and then, the truth came out. “I sucked off your boyfriend in the downstairs bathroom of his house while you were asleep upstairs. _That’s_ what happened," Kenny announced proudly. "...Oh,  _and_ we made out at Bebe's party on Friday. He probably didn't tell you about that either." 

Tweek and Craig’s eyes both went wide, and Craig wanted to take off running but his feet wouldn’t let him move. “...Is that true?” Tweek asked, looking back at Craig, expression shifting from shocked to hurt and also _really_ angry. Craig looked back at Clyde, and Bebe, and then at Kenny, and at all of his friends and everyone else in the crowd who were watching in shock, awaiting his response. And then he looked back at Tweek and hesitated before nodding slowly; an ashamed, apologetic expression on his face that he knew wouldn’t make anyone forgive him. But he couldn’t very well lie when Kenny was standing right there. Tweek looked like he was about to cry, but then he took a deep breath, keeping himself composed; for now, at least. “Y’know what?” He spoke, and Craig knew what was coming before he even finished. “Have fun with this asshole,” He gestured towards Kenny. “...I’m done,” He choked out, then looked back at Kenny again and glared at him, and then he stormed off. And then there were more murmurs and whispers and glares from the crowd.

Craig’s first instinct was to look to Clyde again, who was already making his way towards him. “Un-fucking-believable, dude,” He shook his head disapprovingly before running off after Tweek to console him. And once again, Craig just stood there, watching them walk away as the crowd began to disperse. He just watched; as his entire world collapsed around him. He felt like breaking down and sobbing for the third time that week, but crying was something that he vowed _never_ to do in public; _especially_ not at school. So he stood there in silence, still unable to move, using every ounce of strength he had left in him to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. Eventually, he was snapped out of his depressive trance by the sound of the bell ringing, and then Kenny spoke again;

“Damn, you really fucked him up,” He remarked, obviously referring to Tweek. “He really should've punched _you.”_

 _Oh, right,_ Craig thought to himself. _I still have to deal with_ _this_ _fuckhead._ Craig had almost forgotten that he was still there. _“You_ come with me,” He muttered, angrily grabbing ahold of Kenny’s wrist and dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

“Y’know, we seem to spend a lot of time in bathrooms,” Kenny chuckled, and Craig felt like he might completely lose it if Kenny opened his mouth one more goddamn time.

“Why the _fuck_ would you do that?!” He asked angrily and frantically, letting go of Kenny and nervously pacing back and forth across the room, checking all of the stalls to make sure they were alone.

“Someone had to put an end to that trainwreck of a relationship if you guys _still_ weren't going to after _all_ of that,” Kenny replied casually. _Oh, yeah, god forbid all of his hard work go to waste._ “He's such a fucking pushover. You don't wanna be with him,” He added

“Oh my god, you are _unbelievable!”_ Craig shouted, moving his hands up to massage his temples in an attempt to soothe the pounding headache that he’d seemed to have since the very moment Kenny had barged into his life, very much uninvited.  “That's not your decision to make!” He added, and Kenny shrugged.

“Well, now it's nobody’s,” He replied passively. “You're free now. You're welcome.”

Craig groaned. “God, you might as well have woken him up last night and made him fucking watch, if this is what you were planning on doing the whole time,” He continued ranting and pacing back and forth. “I get that you wanna make _my_ life miserable, but you didn’t have to fucking drag Tweek into this sick little game you’re playing. You already fucking broke _me_ down, why couldn’t you just, I don’t know, not be a dick for like _two minutes_ and leave him out of this? For _fuck’s_ sake!”

“Alright, for the record, that _wasn’t_ part of my... _‘plan,’”_ Kenny said, making air quotes around the word ‘plan’. “But then he fuckin’ split my lip open in front of the whole school. If he expected me to just fuckin’ smile and let him walk away after that then that’s his problem,” He attempted to justify his actions, which just pissed Craig off even more; because Kenny knew damn well that he wasn’t anywhere _close_ to being the _victim_ in this situation.  

“Not everybody reads into every situation as much as you do, Kenny. It’s pretty reasonable to assume that he was just pissed and wanted to teach you a lesson,” Craig replied. “And y’know what, _you_ fucking deserved it. _He didn’t._ He didn’t deserve to be _humiliated_ in front of everyone like that. He was already hurting _plenty_ but no, that wasn’t satisfying enough for you. You had to keep _fucking_ pushing.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Hey, I don’t know why you’re acting like he didn’t have anything to do with this situation at all, and like I dragged him into something that never even concerned him. He was _very_ much involved, even if he didn’t know it the whole time,” He argued. “And y’know, for someone who just totally broke his heart, you’re oddly protective of him. _You’re_ the one who humiliated him. Maybe you shouldn’t preach about shit that you don’t really have any right to.”

Craig scoffed dramatically. “Really? _You’re_ saying that? Are you fucking kidding me?” He yelled, eyes widening in utter disbelief. “You’re the one who thinks you can just do or say whatever the fuck you want, _whenever_ the fuck you want, and there’ll never be _any_ consequences,” He continued, growing more irritated by the second. “God, why don’t you ever just shut the fuck up?”

“Why don't you ever _make me?”_ Kenny challenged him, taking a step closer. “C’mon. Why don’t you give me a nice black eye?” Another step. The tension was rising now. “You think my actions should have consequences? If you feel so strongly about it, make it happen. Even your spazzy little boyfriend--” he paused and smirked, “Oh I’m sorry, _ex_ boyfriend, gave me a nice bloody lip to show off. You keep sayin' you wanna punch me; fuckin' do it already.”

Though Kenny’s challenge was _extremely_ tempting to accept, Craig couldn’t help but question it. “Dude, does getting punched in the face give you a boner or something? Why do you want me to hit you so bad?”

“Because I know you won't do it,” Kenny continued egging him on; _daring_ him to do it.

“You wanna bet?” Craig spoke, and this time _he_ was the one taking a step closer to the other male.

“Sure. I could use the money,” Kenny chuckled, and Craig balled his right hand up into a fist, but then he hesitated, relaxing it again. _Was this really such a good idea?_ “ See, you don't even know how to stand up for yourself when somebody's fucking with you,” Kenny mocked him. “You _talk_ a lot of shit, but you never deliver. In fact, I find it really funny how everybody in school is so intimidated by you, because honestly… _you're kind of a little bitch,”_ He said, crossing his arms.  

Craig narrowed his eyes at the blonde. He was so close to snapping; he could feel all of the repressed anger that had been building up over the course of the week rushing to the surface all at once. “Say that again. I dare you,” Craig said threateningly, bringing a hand up to Kenny’s chest and pushing him a little bit.

“What, did you not hear me?” The shorter male smirked. “...I said you're a little _bitch,”_ He spat again, getting right in Craig’s face. And then, finally, he snapped.

So then for the second time that day, Kenny was met with a fist to the face; this time near his left eye. But Craig didn't stop there. He followed up with a knee to the stomach, and then when Kenny doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach, Craig stomped on one of his feet too, just to make sure that Kenny was hurting in as many places as possible.

“Good one,” Kenny coughed, giving Craig a sarcastic thumbs-up. He was still doubled over, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. And even though Kenny was the sadistic one, Craig very much enjoyed seeing Kenny in pain, _finally_ getting what he fucking deserved. “Ah, fuck,” Kenny panted, and Craig watched him struggle for a few more moments before his breathing evened out, and then Kenny looked up at him. “Y’know you’re actually kinda hot when you’re not being a pussy,” He commented.   

“Yeah, well, _you_ look like shit,” Craig lied. He hated the fact that even after everything that had just happened, he still kinda wanted to grab Kenny by the collar of his shirt and kiss him, because he looked kinda hot with a bloody lip, and that pissed Craig off, and  _why was it that every time he got pissed at Kenny he just wanted to fuck him even more?_

“You feel better now?” Kenny asked him, standing upright again, heavy sarcasm behind his voice as usual.

“Mhm,” Craig nodded, crossing his arms. But in all honesty, it hadn’t made him feel as good as he thought it would. Because it didn’t _fix_ anything. The situation was still exactly the same; except now, Kenny had a swollen, bloody lip (courtesy of Tweek Tweak), and probably a black eye in a couple of minutes. And not that that wasn’t _incredibly_ satisfying, but it wouldn’t _undo_ any of the events that had transpired over the course of the week. And wow, speaking of which, how the fuck had this all happened in less than a week? _That must be a new record or something_ , Craig thought to himself. Something like; ‘ _shortest amount of time taken to destroy one’s own life entirely.’_ “You gonna hit me back?” Craig asked, and when Kenny responded by grabbing ahold of his shirt and pulling him towards him, Craig was worried that the answer was yes. But Kenny didn’t hit him; just looked at him, and Craig was extremely confused. 

“Hm,” Kenny hummed, analyzing Craig's reaction to the sudden closeness, and Craig absentmindedly let his eyes wander to Kenny’s lips, but just for a second. It happened so quickly that any other person in the world wouldn't have picked up on it; but Kenny did. “...Wow," He smirked. "You just finished givin' me a black eye and now you're already thinkin' about kissing me again. That's a little pathetic, don't ya think? Kinda discredits everything you just did." 

Craig rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dick,” he muttered, pushing the blonde away from him, even though Kenny had been right. Craig wished that he could be shocked at himself, like this was a new low or something, but it didn’t surprise him in the slightest at this point; it was just fucking annoying. Kenny was quickly becoming somewhat of an addiction; something that Craig knew was toxic, but still, he couldn’t quit it. Sometimes he tried, but his efforts were half-assed, and _always_ unsuccessful. And it was even more dangerous now that he’d lost Tweek; his only real reason for needing to quit him in the first place. He seemingly had nothing left to lose now.

“Yeah,” Kenny agreed passively with a shrug. “But you _get off_ on me being a dick,” He pointed out, smirk growing wider, “So I guess it all works out perfectly, doesn’t it?”

Craig wondered what more it could possibly take to wipe that infuriatingly smug look off of his face, if being punched in the face twice in one day couldn’t even do the trick. Maybe it just wasn’t possible.  “Dude, whatever. I’ve had enough of your bullshit for one day,” Craig spoke. “I’m fucking leaving,” And without another word he turned and headed for the door then, leaving Kenny there to do whatever the hell it was that he did when he wasn’t harassing Craig.

“Where are you going?” The blonde called after him.

 _“Home,”_ Craig replied, as if it should’ve been obvious. School had literally just started, but he couldn’t give any less of a fuck if he tried. He couldn’t show his face at school right now; not after all of that.

“Right... So what time should I come over?” Kenny yelled back knowingly.

Craig sighed. “...I’ll text you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I swear this has a real plot other than "Craig is stupid" ok you'll see lmao  
> A+ to Tweek for standing up for himself tho am I right  
> Also !! you guys should follow me on Tumblr maybe !! If you want !! I love interacting w/ people who are as into South Park as I am because all of my friends are so annoyed by my SP obsession lmao. My Tumblr is legendofsophie ! I literally don't know how to use Tumblr at all and my blog is laughably ugly and all I do is reblog South Park stuff & self-deprecating memes but still, hmu


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short filler chapter but it ended up being over 5k words lol

When Craig had been with Tweek, the one question that always seemed to keep him there was, _"If not Tweek, then who?"_ But now, with Kenny hovering around him constantly, Craig had decided that if Kenny was the answer that he had been given, then he definitely regretted ever asking that question.

The incident at school had happened on Wednesday. But it wasn’t until that Friday that Craig saw Kenny again. He had never texted him like he said he would, deciding that he should at least _try_ not to hook up with Kenny again for a while until the drama at school blew over; it wouldn’t exactly make him look any better if word got around that he was still fucking Kenny even after he had smashed Tweek’s heart into a million pieces, _and_ gotten called out on it in front of everyone. Talk about a lack of self respect. Or just respect in general. Or y’know, basic human decency.

Craig stayed home from school for the rest of the week, after somehow managing to convince his parents that he was sick. He didn’t tell them that he and Tweek had broken up, but they would surely find out eventually, considering how much everyone in South Park loved to gossip. And his dad would probably be _happy_ about it. He always pretended to be accepting of his son; but Craig could tell that idea of homosexuality in general still made him uncomfortable; and very noticeably so. The first time Craig ever invited Tweek over for dinner, his dad had just glared at him from across the table all night, barely even bothering to force a smile or even acknowledge him when he talked. Craig couldn’t help but wonder what his dad would think of Kenny; if he hadn’t approved of someone as gentle and harmless as Tweek.

Well, he _used_ to be gentle and harmless.

...Anyway.

Rather surprisingly, Kenny didn’t bother Craig either; didn’t text him even once. But Craig couldn’t really enjoy being left alone for once, because when he wasn’t sleeping to avoid facing the absolute shitshow that was his life, he was most likely crying (For someone who never cried, he sure was doing a lot of it lately). And he didn’t even get much time to do as much of _that_ as he would’ve liked to, because on Friday evening, Kenny broke the very brief silence between them and decided to make yet another appearance at Craig’s house.

Craig had just gotten out of the shower (the first one he had taken in _several_ days) when he heard the doorbell ring. Both of his parents were at work, and his sister was sleeping over at a friend’s house after school, so he knew that it couldn’t have been any of them. They all had keys, anyway. So Craig quickly threw on a shirt and a pair of jeans before going to answer the door. He half expected it to be Clyde, or Token, or Tweek, or somebody else that would yell at him. But none of his friends had spoken to him since Wednesday, so that was a bit unlikely. Craig was probably the last person that any of them wanted to see, for any reason.

So when Craig opened the door, there was Kenny; orange parka, ripped jeans, black eye and all.

“Well, well,” Craig nodded at him. “You haven’t bothered me in almost two whole days. Where the hell have you been?”

Kenny looked at him and gave him a little half-smile. “I’ve been around.”

“...Nice black eye,” Craig remarked with another nod. He couldn’t imagine what Kenny could possibly want from him now. After all, he had already succeeded in destroying Craig’s relationship. This couldn’t possibly be _nearly_ as amusing for him anymore, now that there was no longer anything of particular significance at stake. Except for maybe Craig’s sanity. Maybe that was the next thing on Kenny’s list of things to destroy. Not that Craig wasn’t beginning to rack up quite the list as well, of aspects of his life that he’d sabotaged himself, with or without Kenny’s help. His relationship with Tweek, his friendship with Clyde… and now that he thought about it, his grades in school probably weren’t looking too hot either. _When was the last time he had checked them again?_

“Nice… wet hair,” The blonde replied, which brought Craig back out of his thoughts. Kenny was speaking in his usual tone; though something about it sounded forced, and just _off,_ which made Craig curious, and also slightly annoyed.

“Really? That’s all you got?” Craig raised an eyebrow at the shorter male. “Kinda weak. Especially for you.”  

Kenny shrugged. “Yeah, I’m the one with the fucked up face, I can’t really take any jabs at you.”

 _Hm,_  Craig thought to himself. _It wasn’t like Kenny to not take any and every opportunity he could to say something insulting and/or degrading_

_...Something was up._

“...My teeth are pretty fucked up,” Craig shrugged as well, giving Kenny a pass to insult him. Maybe he really did get off on Kenny being a dick to him.    

“Alright, fine,” Kenny replied. “Nice teeth, you ugly, worthless piece of shit. You happy?”

Craig chuckled amusedly. “Not as creative as your _usual_ degrading remarks, but I’ll take it.”

“Yeah,” Kenny said quietly. “...I’m not exactly at the top of my game today,” He admitted passively.

Craig rolled his eyes. “Aw, poor you,” He replied sarcastically, and Kenny smirked, but again, it was forced. Craig knew that Kenny _wanted_ him to ask what was wrong, and as much as Craig didn’t want to give him the attention he wanted, especially with everything Kenny had put him through, and as much as he _really_ didn’t want to get _any_ further involved in this asshole’s life; for some fucking reason, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from doing it. He sighed. “...Alright, McCormick. What do you want this time?”

Kenny said nothing for a while; just looked down at his feet, and didn’t remove his hands from the pockets of his orange parka. And then he looked up at Craig, and there was something in his expression that Craig couldn’t quite identify, but it was something that didn’t belong on the face of the Kenny McCormick that he knew. “...I need a place to stay,” Kenny finally muttered quietly.

Craig was certain that he must have misheard the blonde. “I’m sorry, what?”   

“I need a place to fucking stay tonight, alright?” Kenny snapped embarrassedly, looking back up at him.

Craig wondered if Kenny was aware of the blatant irony in this situation. The way he was speaking told Craig that he was, at least to some extent; he could tell that asking him for help was very much damaging to Kenny’s pride. But that was probably a good thing. Craig hadn’t thought that it was possible for anything to make Kenny any less of an insufferable, egotistical bastard. This was kind of a pleasant surprise, really. Still a little too weird, though, in Craig’s opinion. But that wouldn’t stop him from getting as much enjoyment out of it as he could. “Wow, that sounds like quite the dilemma. What are you gonna do about that?” Craig replied smugly.

Kenny groaned. “Look, dude, can you just let me stay here for _one_ night?”

Craig couldn’t help but scoff. “Dude, _fuck you,”_ He replied bitterly, not letting his guard down even a little. “Give me _one_ good reason why I should let you in my house.” He was starting to get why Kenny got such a kick out of seeing other people frustrated and desperate. _Yeah, he could definitely get used to this feeling._

“Well, I mean, I _fucked_ you,” Kenny reminded him. “I did you a favor; you _could_ do me one now.”

Craig scoffed again. _Was he being fucking serious?_ “Yeah, fucked me _over,”_ Craig replied. “You got plenty of entertainment out of watching my life fall apart and making me look like an asshole in front of the entire school. I’ve already suffered through the consequences of my actions. I don’t owe you _shit.”_

Kenny just shrugged then. “Well, it was worth a try,” He paused. “...If you don’t wanna help me out then don’t, I guess.”  

Kenny was trying to guilt trip him now, and that just pissed Craig off even more. What gave Kenny the right to fucking act like this? “For fuck’s sake, dude. What’s wrong with your place anyway?” Craig asked annoyedly.

“I don’t wanna fucking talk about it, alright?” Kenny snapped, raising his voice a significant amount.

It was kinda ridiculous how they could never have a civilized discussion. It always turned into, well... this.

“Jesus Christ, Kenny. Don’t you have friends to help you with this shit?” Craig asked him. “Why come to _me_ of all people?” He was acting as though this was completely outrageous and crossing a line of some sort, but really, this was about the most tame thing Kenny had done all week. Yet somehow also the most unexpected.  

“Dude, when’s the last time you saw me hanging out with Stan or Kyle, or Cartman?” Kenny asked, and Craig would’ve answered, but he couldn’t even recall the last time that he’d seen Kenny _at all_ prior to about a week ago. God how he wished that he could go back to those days; when he’d had no idea what the fuck Kenny McCormick was up to, nor had he cared. 

_Out of sight, out of mind._

It made sense that Kenny and his friends would drift apart, given his frequent absences from school, and his tendency to prioritize himself over others. But then again, Stan and everyone else in his gang were assholes as well. In fact, at one point, Kenny had actually been the _least_ insufferable out of all of them; but oh, how the times had now changed.

“They’re all just… off doing their own thing now, I guess,” Kenny added, and Craig rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s hard to imagine any reason why anyone _wouldn’t_ wanna hang out with _you.”_

Kenny chuckled weakly. “Y’know, for someone who can’t ever seem to stop talking about how much they hate me, you sure do spend a lot of time around me,” He pointed out.

“Yeah, not by _choice,”_ Craig replied annoyedly.

“Hey, just because I make it hard for you to say no doesn’t mean that you can’t,” Kenny said, and Craig crossed his arms defensively.

“Alright, fine,” He shrugged. If Kenny wanted him to say no so badly, then he would. “No. You can’t stay here. Bye.” Craig went to close the front door, but at the last second, Kenny put his foot in the doorway and stopped it from closing.

Craig made eye contact with the shorter male, and there was that look again; he hadn’t been able to identify it earlier, but upon further analysis, it appeared to be a mix of desperation and humiliation. And the black eye just made it all the more, well… _sad._  It was actually starting to make Craig kind of uncomfortable, seeing Kenny struggling to keep up his facade. Or maybe he wasn’t struggling, and he just wanted the attention. Either way, Craig didn’t like it.

And then, Kenny said something that threw him off even more;

“Craig,” He sighed, cringing slightly before he forced out the next word,  “... _Please.”_

Craig blinked. It took him a few moments to recover from the complete and utter shock that he was experiencing, because never in a million years would he have thought that he would ever hear Kenny utter the word “please”, especially in such a serious, non ironic tone.    

_Who the hell was this person at his door and what had they done with Kenny McCormick?_

For the first time, Craig wasn’t terrified of what Kenny might do if he said no to him. He didn’t feel _threatened._ But for some reason, that just further persuaded him into giving in. He _should’ve_ slammed the door in Kenny’s face. He _deserved_ to be turned away. But Craig just couldn’t bring himself to do it; to be just as cruel to Kenny as Kenny had been to him. He sighed. “...Leave your shoes at the door,” He gave in. _He always fucking gave in._

Kenny raised a brow at Craig. “I don’t remember that being a rule last time,” He remarked as Craig opened the door again so he could come in.

“Yeah, I was a little preoccupied last time, as you might recall,” Craig muttered annoyedly as Kenny stepped into the house and removed his shoes.

“Oh, I definitely recall,” Kenny commented, and Craig let out a sigh of exasperation.

_Why was he letting this asshole in his house again?_

“Hey, uh, seriously though,” Kenny spoke again in a more earnest tone, looking up at Craig and then clearing his throat nervously. “...Thanks.”

“...Yeah. Whatever. Just stop being fucking weird,” Craig replied awkwardly.  

Kenny chuckled amusedly. “Ah, so you _do_ like me better when I’m a dick,” and just like that, the sudden change in his demeanor disappeared just as quickly as it had come. That mischievous spark in his eyes was back, and the Kenny that Craig had gotten to know all too well over the duration of the past week had now returned.

“No, because that would imply that there’s ever been a time that I’ve _liked_ you,” Craig countered, and Kenny snickered.  

“Oh, come on,” He grabbed ahold of Craig’s hand and pulled him a little bit closer. “You can never stay pissed at me for very long.”

Craig scoffed, looking down at him. “Dude, I haven’t stopped being pissed at you since this whole thing started.”

Kenny smirked and rolled his eyes, then reached up to wrap his arms around Craig’s neck. “You know where this is going, right?”

“I’m not stupid,” Craig said, absentmindedly letting his hands wander down to rest on Kenny’s waist (Though that was probably just about the biggest lie he’d ever told in his life).

“Now that’s _highly_ debatable,” Kenny remarked, leaning closer, earning an eyeroll from Craig, who was too distracted now to continue bantering with the blonde. “...Is anyone else home?”

“No,” Craig answered quickly, shaking his head.

“Good.”

And then they were kissing again. And Craig, having no sense of self-respect left and seemingly nothing left to lose, didn’t even try to stop Kenny this time. And just like the times before that, there was nothing particularly meaningful about the kiss; it was rough and sloppy and everything about it still felt _dirty_ and _wrong._ But there was something, well, _different_ in the way that it felt; maybe because Craig wasn’t feeling like the vulnerable one this time. And Craig couldn’t help but wonder briefly if this whole thing had been a setup. But then he decided that no; the slight dullness in the blonde’s usually lively and full-of-mischief eyes had been all too real, even for someone like Kenny to fake for his own benefit.

And then, once again, Craig found himself wondering what the _fuck_ he was getting himself into.

 

* * *

 

And so their fling continued.

It was hard to say just what exactly they were. Most people would call them friends with benefits, but the problem with that label was that they weren’t exactly friends. Pretty damn far from it, actually. They couldn’t fucking stand eachother. It was honestly a miracle every time they spent more than an hour in the same room together and didn’t end up killing eachother. Good thing they had other methods when it came to getting their aggression out.

But one question, the same one that Craig had been asking himself since this whole thing had started, still lingered;

_Why?_

After all, Kenny was poison. But not of the typical variety. Sure, he came with a clear warning label; skull and crossbones, the whole deal. But he was the kind of poison that tasted so damn good going down, it was more than enough to make you forget about the consequences in that moment. Like alcohol, in a way. Sure, the aftertaste was bittersweet; maybe more bitter than sweet. But that first sip… the way it tasted the moment it first touched your tongue; the warm, _inviting_ feeling when it hit the back of your throat and the buzz that came along with it, the more you drank… well, that was good enough to make anyone want more, regardless of the aftermath.

Except to Craig, Kenny felt less like alcohol, and more like some kind of hardcore drug. Because alcohol was okay when enjoyed in moderation. But with Kenny, even the smallest touch was dangerous, and enough to get you hooked for life, the very first time you dared to try it. And when Craig wasn't shooting up the highly addictive drug that was Kenny McCormick, he was going through withdrawls. And then, like every addict did at some point, every time he thought he was ready to give it up for good, he gave in. He relapsed. And every time, he told himself, _"This is the last time"._ Except it never _was_ the last time. And each time, he was a little less careful; a little more _impulsive._

And that’s why Craig was stuck. He had picked his poison, and he had picked it well. And he was so addicted to this poison that he felt as though he was becoming it himself. He had become the person that he never thought he would be, and never _wanted_ to be.

He had no excuse to let it continue. After all, Kenny didn’t have anything to use against him anymore; anything to blackmail him with, in order to keep him trapped. The only person keeping Craig trapped now was himself.

Maybe it was because the sex was a good distraction from the overwhelming feelings or self-hatred and pity, and how much he missed Tweek (Though afterwards, all it really did was fuel those feelings even more). Or maybe, it was because he had himself convinced that this was the only kind of relationship that he deserved; meaningless, chaotic and empty.

Or maybe it was because he was all alone now; and he just wanted to feel _close_ to _someone._

...And sometimes, he did.

Sometimes, during the brief conversations they had while they smoked after sex, Craig learned random things about Kenny here and there. Not on purpose, of course. It usually started with one of them asking to borrow a lighter, and then it evolved from there. Somehow, they were able to have the most casual conversations after they got done fucking. Maybe it was because Kenny was too worn out after sex to keep acting like a dick. That and the fact that it’s kind of impossible for anyone to be in a bad mood after they’ve just had an orgasm.

The first time it happened, Craig had made the mistake of asking Kenny why his parents were never home, while they sat shirtless on Kenny’s bed in his disaster of a bedroom (not as much of a disaster as Craig’s life, though) and lit up a couple cigarettes. And the blonde had replied with a rather spiteful laugh, then followed up with; “You really wanna know the answer to that question?” And Craig had just nodded, because it seemed like it was something that he needed to talk about, and probably didn’t get to very often.

“...Well for one, they do and sell a shit ton of drugs. Drink a lot, too,” Kenny explained. “Sometimes they leave for a week or two at a time. Which, by default, leaves me in charge of providing basic necessities like food, and makin’ up the difference when my parents don’t have enough to pay the bills, so me and my sister don’t, y’know, die.” His tone remained casual while he talked, but the way he paused and brought his cigarette up to his lips like it was his lifeline, and took a particularly long drag, Craig could tell that the situation with his parents bothered him more than he let on. “...Honestly though, I’d be lyin’ if I said it wasn’t nicer when they’re not around,” He continued then. “Karen can actually get her homework done, instead of spendin’ all night pretendin’ not to hear them fighting, and then sneakin’ out of her room to comfort mom when dad finally lays off.”

Kenny didn’t say anything for a few moments then, and Craig thought he was done, but then the blonde spoke again.

“That night I stayed at your house… I had come home from school and they were home. And they were being especially… _aggressive,”_ He paused. “...I needed a distraction. So I left with Karen and walked her to a friend’s house, and then, well, you know the rest.” 

Craig was at a loss for words; it certainly wasn’t by any means an _excuse_ for Kenny to act the way that he did, but… it sure _explained_ a lot. And it had never really occurred to Craig that he might be the exact same thing to Kenny that Kenny was to him; a good distraction. “...Dude, that actually really sucks, I’m sorry,” Craig replied softly, and then he took a drag from his own cigarette. He had a _really_ hard time admitting it to himself, but he couldn’t help but feel bad for Kenny. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Kenny shrugged. “I’m doin’ just fine without ‘em.”

Craig had felt like Kenny then, because the first words that came into his mind after Kenny said that had been _‘if you say so’._ He didn’t say that, though. Instead, he asked _another_ question that he probably shouldn’t have. “...Hey what about your brother Kevin?”

Kenny scoffed at that. “I’d love to tell ya what he’s up to these days, if only I fuckin’ knew.”

“What do you mean?” Craig asked, and he couldn’t tell if he was just letting his curiosity get the best of him, or if he was actually starting to _care._ He didn’t like that thought though, so he decided not to dwell on it, and refocused his attention back on what Kenny was saying.

“He left a couple years ago,” The blonde spoke. “I’ve always kinda envied him for bein' able to get outta here, because I sure as shit won’t.”

Craig sighed. “Y’know, you could get out of here if you actually fuckin’ _tried,”_ Criag replied, hoping that it hadn’t sounded _too_ pretentious.  “And just because he ‘got out’ doesn’t mean he’s living a decent life… you can take the person outta South Park, but you can’t take the South Park outta the person.”

“Oh, I know he’s probably miserable,” Kenny agreed. “But at least he’s miserable somewhere that’s not here,” He added, and Craig let out a quiet laugh at that. “Y’know what the fucked up part is though?”

“Hm?” Craig hummed.

“...He didn't even say goodbye or tell anyone where he was going,” Kenny continued. “I came home from school one day and he was just _gone._ Didn't hear from him ‘til he called me from a payphone from the south side of Chicago three months later. And I haven’t heard from him since,” He paused, averting his gaze and turning to look out the window. “...He could be dead for all I know.”  

Craig couldn’t quite find the proper words to respond to that, so he remained silent until Kenny sensed his discomfort and then cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking again.

“...Anyway,” He said quickly, turning to face Craig again. “What about you?”

“What?” Craig blinked.

“How’s your relationship with your family?” Kenny elaborated.

“Wow, asking me questions about my life?” Craig replied. “Careful. You might actually start to see me as a human being and not just a sexual object,” He joked, attempting to lighten the mood a bit. The idea of having a _serious_ conversation with Kenny, one that actually _meant_ something, was still rather unsettling to Craig. It reminded him too much that Kenny was a real person, and not just some cliche, textbook-definition antagonist in the game that was Craig's life.

“Just answer the question, you asshole,” Kenny replied.

“Yeah, _I’m_ the asshole,” Craig rolled his eyes, then realizing that he was still holding his cigarette and bringing it up to his lips and inhaling one more time before reaching over and putting it out on the ashtray on Kenny’s nightstand. “...It’s not great, but not terrible. My dad’s a little homophobic, but that’s it the worst of it, really,” He answered finally. But for some reason, after that, he felt the need to keep talking. “...I worry more about my parents’ relationship with _eachother_ than I do about _my_ relationship with _them,_ honestly. I don’t even think they love eachother anymore. They only stay together ‘cause they think a divorce would traumatize me and Ruby but honestly I wouldn’t even give a shit,” Craig then realized that he was oversharing, and stopped himself. “...I don’t know why I’m telling this shit to you of all people. You don’t fucking care.”

Kenny hummed in acknowledgment and nodded at him. “Hey. I asked, didn't I?” He said before taking one last drag from his cigarette as well, then putting it out. “...I like knowing things about people,” He added.

Craig scoffed. “Translation: I like gaining new blackmailing material.”  

“Oh, yeah, I’m gonna go to school and reveal the _shocking_ news that the Tucker family is mildly dysfunctional,” Kenny replied facetiously. “That’ll be sure to throw everybody for a loop.”

“...Yeah, I guess you have a point there,” Craig agreed.

“Y’know it might earn you some sympathy points, though, which couldn’t hurt,” Kenny spoke again. “You’re not exactly the most well-liked person in school right now.”

Craig sighed. “That’s a fuckin’ understatement, dude,” He muttered in response. He hated being reminded of the reality that he was so desperately trying to avoid. “That’s why I’m not _going,”_ He added. “...God, I’m turning into _you.”_

Kenny smirked. “Hey, at least you know you’re probably gettin' laid more than anybody else in school,” He noted.

“I don’t know about that, man,” Craig replied. “There’s a lot of _really_ horny kids at our school.”

Kenny laughed inwardly. “Trust me, I know.”

Craig cringed. “Y’know what, I thought about asking for like a second, but I don’t even wanna know how many people you’re screwing around with other than me.”

Kenny laughed again. “Yeah, the number is probably a lot lower than you think, but I’ll let you keep thinking that I’m a total slut,” He replied

Craig then remembered another question that he had been debating whether he should ask or not. “Hey, while we’re back on the topic of sex, do your parents know that you’re…?” He trailed off, realizing that he actually wasn’t aware of Kenny’s sexual orientation.

“Bi? Or a slut?” Kenny replied casually.

Craig rolled his eyes. “The first thing, you fucking moron.”

Kenny glared at him half-jokingly before responding. “Yeah, they do,” He paused. “...Well, I don’t know, actually. They might’ve been too drunk to remember it later when they found out. That actually works out pretty well for _me_ though, because my dad wasn’t too happy about it, to put it lightly.”

Craig was slightly curious as to _how_ exactly Kenny’s parents had ‘found out’, but from Kenny’s rather vague response, he could tell that he probably didn’t want to get into the details, so Craig just said “Oh,” and left it at that.

There was a long, awkward silence then, the two of them staring off in different directions, avoiding eye contact. They were both aware that they had now reached the limit of time that they could act civilized towards eachother before it got too weird.  

“...We should stop talking now,” Kenny suggested, breaking the silence.

“...Yeah,” Craig agreed.

Even though Kenny became a little less mysterious as Craig got to know him, he could only get any information out of him when he gave it up willingly; the little pieces of himself that he shared with Craig during their brief encounters. But Kenny was still just as impossible to read when he didn’t _want_ to be read. And impossible to reason with, too. For every day there was that they could almost tolerate eachother, there was another when Craig felt as though he didn't know Kenny at all; the days when he was standoffish, cold, and unmerciful.

“I think you might be gettin' a little too comfortable with me,” Kenny had randomly said to him one day, this conversation again taking place as they sat half-naked in Kenny’s bedroom. And without really thinking about it, Craig had responded with;

“Hey, if I am it’s your own fault for hanging out with me so much.”

Not that he really was becoming ‘ too comfortable’ with Kenny by any means; but the fact that the idea of that bothered Kenny so much made Craig not want to deny it, just to fuck with him.

But for some unforeseeable reason, that had set Kenny off.

“Get out,” He said flatly, not even bothering to make eye contact with Craig.

“What?” Craig scoffed.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Craig,” Kenny said, tone growing more angry and annoyed.

“Dude, why are you being like this?” Craig asked defensively, narrowing his eyes at the blonde.

Kenny looked at him then. “Look, I’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend alright? We don't need to have a heart to heart afterwards every time we have sex,” He said bitterly. “We fuck, then you get the fuck out. Got it?”

“Jesus Christ, dude, fine,” Craig conceded, throwing his hands up in surrender, then hopping down from the bed and retrieving his shirt and jacket from Kenny’s bedroom floor. “And for future reference, you don't need to remind me that you're not my boyfriend,” He continued as he put his clothes and hat back on. “Because you're literally the _last_ fucking person I would _ever_ wanna be with,” He added, looking Kenny dead in the eyes, before storming out of the room.

“Yeah, it’s funny how you say that, yet when you were already in a relationship you threw yourself at me the very first chance you got!” Kenny yelled after him. "Or did you forget that tiny little detail?!" 

“Go fuck yourself, Kenny!” Craig shouted back.    

It was impossible to predict what kind of mood Kenny would be in whenever they met up. But it was _exhausting_ for Craig, trying to keep up with him. And after a month of being stuck in the absolute _nightmare_ that was his relationship with Kenny, Craig couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that he had once deemed his relationship with Tweek ‘dysfunctional’. If that had been dysfunctional, he didn’t even know what word could be used to accurately describe the situation that he was in now.

He also probably would have laughed at this point if anyone had tried to tell him that the worst was still yet to come.

But that would have been a mistake. _Because this was just the eye of the storm._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist ! Kenny has feelings lmao  
> Also I'm gonna be honest with y'all the next couple chapters might take me a while to finish because I didn't plan them out as thoroughly as the rest of the story & there's some shit I gotta figure out lol yikes  
> But hey this fic is like, halfway done I think !! So that's fun


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took me three fuckin weeks to finish, lmao  
> It's really long tho so hopefully that'll make up for it

 “Jesus Christ, Craig, you really fuckin’ dug your nails into my back,” Kenny said, wincing slightly as his eyes scanned the floor of his bedroom; he had already found his jeans and put them back on, but now he needed to find his shirt.  “...Am I bleeding?” He asked then, turning so that his back was facing Craig.

Craig sat up on the bed to observe the various scratches that he had left on Kenny’s back, two of which had tiny little dots of blood scattered along them.  “...Yeah. A little,” He replied with a small chuckle.

Kenny turned to face him again. “I’m that good, huh?” He smirked. “Guess I _must_ be, since you keep comin’ back for more,” He added, and Craig responded by rolling his eyes and raising a middle finger at him.

Kenny located his shirt then, along with Craig’s, and slipped his on over his head before tossing Craig’s to him, who then did the same as Kenny took a seat next to him on the bed. And It was quiet then. Craig had learned by now that if they were going to have a conversation, it was wise for him to wait for Kenny to initiate it. That’s how he knew that it would be safe.

But Kenny didn’t say anything, so they sat in awkward silence, and Craig looked out the window, at the fresh blanket of snow on the ground. Anywhere else, it would’ve been a little too early still for so much snow, but not in South Park. It was November now; only a couple more weeks until all of the kids in town would be off school for Thanksgiving break. Not that that really meant anything to Craig, who hadn’t been to school in over a month.

Some days, he told his parents that he was going to school, and then went straight to Kenny’s house; Kenny had also made a habit of skipping school again, ever since Craig had started doing it. And although Craig did feel a certain degree of shame every time he showed up at Kenny’s front door again, it was never enough to make him stop. Because when Kenny pulled him inside and pinned him up against the wall, whispering those beautifully _vulgar_ words into his ear before leading him to the bedroom, suddenly that was all he could focus on; and all he could _care_ about.

And on other days, when Craig was especially not up for acting as a functioning member of society, he didn’t tell his parents anything; just stayed in his room and slept the day away. When this pattern had first started, his parents had _tried_ to make him go to school. But their threats of consequences always fell through, and at this point, they had pretty much given up; which was a poor choice on their part, really. Because it was Craig’s senior year, and they should’ve been pushing him to just suck it up, and suffer through the next few months so that he could graduate, and then be done with school forever.

But then again, they could only do so much, with Craig flat-out _refusing_ to go back to school. The only option they really had left was to drag Craig into class by his hair; and even then, he wouldn’t give in without putting up one hell of a fight. But his parents didn’t care enough to do anything like that, so it didn’t really matter what he would do if they did.

Thinking about the fact that he might not graduate high school if he kept this up stressed Craig out. And when he was stressed out, he smoked. So he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the pack of cigarettes that he had brought with him to Kenny’s house, and took one out.

Without saying a word, Kenny then reached for the lighter that was sitting on his nightstand and tossed it to Craig, who nodded at him before using it to light his cigarette. After he took a drag from it and went to exhale, Kenny plucked it out of his hand and took a quick one himself, then handed it back to Craig.

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” Kenny asked then, breaking the silence.

Craig looked at him. “Oh, you want me to talk now?” He replied snidely. “What happened to _‘we fuck, then you get the fuck out’?”_

Kenny sighed. “Dude, look, I--”

“You didn’t hurt my feelings or anything. Not that I think you would give a shit if you did,” Craig stated blankly, cutting him off. “I’m just pointing out the inconsistency.”

Kenny shrugged. “Alright, then, you got me, I guess,” He conceded.

Craig took another slow drag from his cigarette then, watching the cloud of smoke disappear into the air as he exhaled. And when he noticed Kenny watching him, he turned to face him again. “Quit staring at me, will ya?” He spoke.

“What, so I’m allowed to fuck you but I’m not allowed to look at you?” Kenny replied, a small amused grin pulling at his lips.

“Mhm,” Craig nodded, and Kenny scoffed, then reached over and snatched the cigarette out of Craig’s hand again, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling, then attempting to hand it back to Craig, who just waved him off. “Just keep it,” He said passively. He hadn’t planned on finishing the whole thing anyway.

“Cool, thanks,” Kenny replied before placing it between his lips again.

“...Have you ever been in a real relationship before?” Craig blurted out then, abruptly changing the subject of their conversation, after deciding that Kenny was in an okay enough mood that it was safe.

The blonde looked at him again and let out a muted, scoff-like laugh that reeked of pretentiousness, smoke pouring out from his mouth when he did so. “Not really,” He replied nonchalantly. “I’m not exactly into the whole idea of commitment, so relationships aren’t really my thing,” He paused. “...Kinda like how bein’ faithful isn’t _your_ thing,” He added with a smirk, nudging Craig playfully.

Craig rolled his eyes. Having to put up with Kenny throwing out unnecessary, smug insults was something that _always_ came along with having a conversation with him, no matter what kind of mood he was in. “Alright first of all, fuck you,” Craig spoke, and Kenny was quick with his comeback;

“You already did. _Several_ times.”

 _"Second of all,”_ Craig glared at him as he continued, not acknowledging his comment. “You’re really gonna sit there and try to tell me that you’ve honestly never wanted anything more out of a relationship than meaningless sex?”

“That's not what I _said,”_ Kenny replied. “...But yeah. Pretty much,” He shrugged.

Craig narrowed his eyes at the blonde. “That is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard, McCormick.”

“No, _love_ is what’s bullshit,” Kenny corrected him. “And I’m just… above it,” He finished halfheartedly, then turned to look out the window, breaking eye contact with Craig.

Craig rolled his eyes again. “God, you’re more pretentious than the fucking goth kids, y’know that?” He said, and Kenny stayed quiet. “Nobody is _above_ love. I used to fuckin’ say shit like that too, before Tweek came along,” Craig continued. He really had no right to be preaching to Kenny about love, considering the events of the past month. But he just couldn’t help himself, with how obnoxiously pretentious Kenny was being. “You just don’t like being vulnerable, because it makes you feel weak, and you can’t stand even the _idea_ of not having complete control and power over a situation.”

Kenny looked back over at Craig then. “...Tweek made you go fuckin’ soft, dude,” He stated amusedly.

“Maybe he did,” Craig shrugged. “But hey, all I’m sayin’ is that once you realize and admit that you’ve got the same feelings as everybody else, you might also realize that you’re not as much of an edgy, coldhearted outcast as you think you are.” He continued lecturing Kenny. The tables had turned now, and Craig was the one reading Kenny like a book. But that didn’t stop Kenny from pointing out the obvious hypocrisy in what he was saying;

“Dude, whatever, you’re one to fuckin’ talk,” He replied. “You _had_ love. _Real love._ And it wasn’t enough for you. Which just proves my point.”

Craig shrugged again. “Alright, fine, smartass. Make this about me,” He said casually. “But that won’t change the fact that you’re just bitter towards the idea of love because you’re afraid of losing your edge.”

Craig’s words seemed to hang in the air as Kenny went silent, not having any kind of immediate reaction to what had been said. He just looked at Craig, expression unreadable for the most part, but Craig could just barely make out the small traces of confusion and shock that Kenny couldn’t quite cover up.

“You gonna yell at me to get out now?” Craig spoke again when Kenny remained silent, and the blonde still didn’t say anything; just maintained silent eye contact with Craig as he took one last drag from the cigarette he had given him before reaching over to his nightstand and putting it out in his ashtray, which really needed to be emptied out.

Craig couldn’t help but think that it was rather of wasteful of Kenny, to take all of three hits off of a cigarette before putting it out, but he didn’t have much time to be annoyed about it, because the next thing he knew, he was being pushed down onto the mattress, and Kenny was straddling him, pinning his hands down on either side of his head.

Craig was about to open his mouth to say something along the lines of “dude, what the fuck”, but when he met Kenny’s mischevious gaze, the words seemed to get caught in his throat and he just stared, dazed and confused, up at Kenny who was staring down at him; but this stare was softer and less intimidating than usual.

“...You’ve got nice eyes,” Kenny commented, seemingly amused by the other boy’s confusion, before leaning down and connecting their lips in a highly uncharacteristically deep, _eloquent_ kiss, and Craig was a still a little perplexed but still he reacted immediately, moving his lips along with the blonde’s as one of Kenny’s hands moved to cup his cheek.

Kenny licked along Craig’s bottom lip and Craig opened his mouth for him; he tasted like smoke. Craig moaned lazily into Kenny’s mouth, then used his free hand to reach around the blonde’s neck and pull him down even closer to him. The kiss was beginning to lose the odd, awkward sort of meaningfulness that it’d had at first as their teenage horniness stepped in once again to overpower any kind of real, non hate-and/or-lust-fueled emotions that they might have been feeling towards eachother in that moment (which neither of them would ever in a million years actually _admit_ to feeling), and Kenny pulled away then, looking down at Craig lustfully. But then something in his expression changed, and he frowned.

“...Hey, uh, I don’t think we should do that anymore,” He stated blankly, after taking a moment to catch his breath.

“What do you mean?” Craig’s slightly swollen lips formed into a frown as well.

“Kiss. On the lips,” Kenny elaborated. “It’s too intimate, it feels… weird.”

Craig blinked. “You're the one who--”

“From now on lips don’t touch anywhere above the neck. Kay?” Kenny cut him off, and this was all happening a bit fast for Craig to make sense of it, but still, he agreed.

“...Yeah. Alright. Whatever.” He shook his head dismissively.

It was weird to think about not being allowed to kiss Kenny anymore; being cut off from his supply so abruptly. After all, that was how this whole thing had started in the first place;

 _With one kiss._ One recklessly impulsive, highly _regrettable_ kiss.

But Kenny made the rules, and Craig was all too familiar with what happened when he dared to challenge those rules. So he just accepted it; shrugged it off. It didn’t really bother him that much; it wasn’t like Kenny was telling him that they couldn’t have sex anymore. But still, though he would never say it out loud, he couldn’t help but question the blonde’s motives.

_Why the sudden rule change?_

Craig could never seem to figure out what was going on in that deeply disturbed, dysfunctional mind of his. And he didn’t like spending too much time trying to get inside Kenny’s head. After all, it wasn’t exactly the safest of environments. His mood patterns resembled that of a weather forecast which always called for scattered thunderstorms and flash floods, and Craig feared that if he allowed himself to get lost in the downpour, or if he swam too deep into the flood waters, he might not be able to find his way back to the surface; _he might drown._

_Had he already?_

Craig couldn’t really be sure of anything anymore, except for the fact that the blonde enigma that loomed over him now, and plagued his thoughts every waking (and sleeping) hour of his life, was quite possibly the one thing in his life that he would never truly be able to understand, no matter how hard he tried.

One might think that after spending so much time with someone, and learning some of the most personal details of their life, you might feel like you knew them at least a little; at least to _some_ extent. But no. Craig didn’t _know_ Kenny. He knew his tragic backstory, and he knew of his wild mood swings. He knew all of his manipulation tactics. But somehow at the same time, everything that Kenny did was still wildly unpredictable and unexplainable. And most days, Craig still felt as though he was dealing with a complete stranger. And he had a feeling that Kenny liked it that way.

“Craig?” Kenny’s voice broke through the awkward, tense atmosphere.

“What?” Craig blinked.

“You were spacin’ out,” Kenny informed him.

“Oh,” Craig replied simply, looking up at the blonde, who was still hovering over him. He was beginning to feel a little awkward. “You can, y’know… get off of me now,” He spoke again, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“...Right,” Kenny nodded before awkwardly moving away from Craig, and back to his spot on the other side of the mattress where he had been sitting earlier.

After a few moments of tense silence, Kenny opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could even get a full word out, he cut himself off as he and Craig both became aware of the faint sound of the front door of Kenny’s house opening and then slamming shut. It was two o’clock on a Friday afternoon, so it couldn’t have been Karen, and Craig could tell that Kenny knew that by the way his eyes widened in panic.

“Kenny?! I know you’re here!” A deep male voice yelled angrily from the livingroom. “I got a call from your school today! What’d I fuckin’ tell you about skipping class?!”

“Shit,” Kenny muttered under his breath. “You gotta leave,” He said to Craig in a frantic yet somehow still passive tone, standing up from the bed. “Like, you’ve got about thirty seconds before he comes in here. You’d better go out the window.”

Craig, understanding the urgency of the situation simply nodded and stood up as well, then quickly slipped his shoes on and grabbed his jacket and hat off of the floor before making his way over to the window on the other side of Kenny’s room. But before he opened it, he turned back to face Kenny. “Dude, why don’t you just sneak out with me? Then you won’t have to deal with their bullshit,” He suggested.

“Can’t,” Kenny shrugged. “Karen’s gonna be home in like an hour, I gotta be here.”

Craig sighed. “...Are you gonna be alright?” He asked, and it had actually almost sounded sincere.

Kenny scoffed at him. “Do you honestly give a shit?”

“Well, I mean--” Craig started, but he stopped talking when he heard footsteps approaching the room.  

“Dude, go,” Kenny whispered harshly, cutting him off. “I’ll be fine. Nine times outta ten he just yells at me and throws stuff around.”

Craig frowned. “What about the other one time?”

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it,” Kenny replied quickly, pushing him even closer to the window.

Craig sighed hesitantly again before turning back towards the window, which wasn’t that high off the ground, and opening it, then climbing over the frame and ducking under the top part of it, and dropping down onto the snowy ground outside. And then he turned around again, back towards Kenny, who was still standing in front of the window, waiting for Craig to move away from it so he could close it. And without really thinking about it, Craig gently placed his hand on top of Kenny’s, which was resting on the windowsill; a subtle gesture of comfort, that basically said _“I know we’re supposed to hate eachother and all, but I’m sorry your parents are assholes.”_ And Kenny looked down at their hands, and then back up at Craig, and he looked confused, and also a bit conflicted.

Their awkward moment was interrupted by the sound of the doorknob of Kenny’s bedroom jiggling, and Kenny tore his hand away and quickly slammed the window shut, then mouthed _“Go”,_ waving Craig off. And Craig did as he was told, never looking back once as he walked away from the McCormicks’ house and back towards his own.

 

* * *

 

“So my parents are gone again.”

It was Sunday morning now, two days later, and Craig had woken up to a phone call from Kenny, letting him know that they were in the clear to meet up again.

“Really? Already?” Craig spoke groggily into the phone, running a hand through his hair. He was still half asleep. Maybe a little more than half.

“Mhm,” Kenny hummed. “They never stick around for very long.”

“So I assume you expect me to come over now?” Craig asked knowingly.

“ _Actually,_ I called to tell you that we’ve got a car to use,” Kenny informed him enthusiastically. “Well, a truck. Whatever. Same thing. My parents left with some friends this time and I guess they took their car because the truck is still parked out in the driveway.”

Craig yawned. Was it too late to hang up on Kenny and go back to sleep? “Do you even know how to drive, McCormick?” He asked, avoiding the more obvious question of _“is it really a good idea to steal your parents’ truck?”_ because he was already aware of the fact that Kenny didn’t give a shit about consequences. Or at least, he always acted as though he didn’t.

“Sure,” Kenny replied nonchalantly. “I don’t have a license though and the plates on the truck are expired so we’ll have to keep an eye out for cops.”

Craig rolled his eyes. Kenny couldn’t even see him, but still, he couldn’t help himself. “...And where exactly do you plan on going?” He asked, already knowing that the answer would annoy him. “Or should I say, where that I don’t wanna go do you plan on dragging me?”

“I’ve got a buddy in North Park that throws some wild parties,” Kenny answered, and Craig rolled his eyes yet again.

“Ah, so instead of going to a trashy house party _here,_ we’re gonna go to a trashy house party on the _other_ side of town. _Exhilarating.”_

“Geez, why do you have to be such a fuckin’ downer all the time?” Kenny replied in a rather irritated tone.

“Dude, you _know_ parties aren’t my thing,” Craig replied annoyedly.

“Yeah, and _I_ wasn’t your thing either, but here we are,” Kenny said cockily, and Craig groaned. “...Come on. I need a designated driver in case I get too fucked up to drive home,” Kenny continued attempting to persuade him.

 _“Or_ you could just, y’know, _not do that,”_ Craig suggested.

“Yeah, and you _could’ve_ not cheated on Tweek, but shit happens,” came Kenny’s response.  

Craig sighed. The mention of Tweek’s name still brought a sharp pain to his chest. “Y’know, when you're trying to talk me into doing something, you _could_ refrain from being a dick,” He argued, even though he already knew that he wouldn’t be winning this fight. _He never won._ “...Might be more effective that way,” He finished.

“Really? Because that hasn't been my experience with you in the past,” Kenny chuckled smugly. It was absolutely astonishing to Craig that Kenny was somehow pretty much just as annoying over the phone as he was in person.

Craig sighed again, this time in defeat. “You’re not giving me a choice here, are you?”

“Nope,” Kenny replied simply. “You’re comin’ with me whether ya like it or not.”

Craig scoffed. “And what are you gonna do if I say no?”

“I think you know by now what I’m capable of,” Kenny replied, and Craig could practically hear the smirk in his voice.  

“Whatever. Fine. I’ll go if it’ll make you shut up,” Craig conceded, and shortly thereafter, he heard Kenny snickering quietly to himself on the other line. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?” He spoke again.

“Oh, nothin’,” Kenny laughed. “I just love how you’ll do whatever I say.”

“I’m hanging up on you now,” Craig said flatly, his finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button.

 _“I’ll pick you up at eight,”_  Kenny spoke again quickly.

“Yeah, shut up,” Craig muttered before hanging up.

After he ended the call with Kenny, a list of his most recent incoming and outgoing calls popped up on his cracked phone screen, and he sighed when he again saw that he had four missed calls from Clyde, and two from Token.

When he had first abandoned the idea of ever showing his face at school again, his friends had been too pissed about what he had done to Tweek to even think about trying to contact him. But now, quite some time had passed, and as Craig remained M.I.A, his friends were beginning to worry about him. Not that they weren’t still incredibly annoyed with his as well.

Clyde had left him three voicemails, sounding increasingly more frustrated in each one. In the first two, Clyde had mostly just sounded concerned; but the last one had stuck in Craig’s mind the most;

_“Y’know what, dude, fine. I give up. If you wanna be this way, then whatever. Don’t come back. It’s probably easier for Tweek to not have to see you anyway. Call me when you’re ready to come back to the real world.”_

And oh how Craig wished that he could return to the real world. _But he was too lost in Kenny’s world now._

Half of him thought that maybe he should try to make things right with his friends and Tweek. But the other half of him knew that there wasn’t really anything he could do to make it right, given the magnitude of the damage he’d caused. But then again, he wouldn’t really know. He hadn’t stuck around long enough to get a read on the aftermath of it all. Maybe everybody was doing just fine without him. Maybe keeping his distance was the best thing he could do; though his motivation for doing so was rather selfish, and not because he had his ex-boyfriend’s best interest in mind. But fuck, he couldn’t really even say that he had his _own_ best interest in mind either.

But he had been wrapped up in this routine with Kenny for so long that he had stopped bothering to question it for the most part; stopped searching for an answer as to why he continued to do what he did. Because even if he found one someday, surely it wouldn’t be a valid enough excuse anyway.  

And so Craig set an alarm for seven thirty (half an hour before Kenny would be there to pick him up), tucked his phone back into the pocket of his sweatshirt, and went back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Kenny and Craig sat in Kenny’s parents’ truck, parked outside of a house that basically looked like the North Park version of Kenny’s place; boarded up windows, chipped paint on the side panels, and a broken screen door. But although it appeared rather sad and run-down from the outside, on the inside it was full of life; and lots of drunk, horny, redneck teenagers. And like every party Craig had ever been to, it was the very last place that he wanted to be.

“Dude, can I just hang out in the car and take a nap or something while you’re in there doing whatever?” He pleaded with Kenny from the passenger seat. “...Because I honestly have no desire to be an accessory to whatever illegal activities you plan on taking part in.”

“Dude, no, that’s ridiculous,” Kenny said to him before opening the door of the driver’s side of the truck and getting out. “Come on. Stop being so fuckin’ grouchy.”

Craig let out a loud, dramatic groan of annoyance before opening the passenger side door and stepping out of the vehicle as well. He knew that it was pointless to argue with Kenny, especially because they were already _at_ the party, but Craig still hoped Kenny knew that he would be taking every opportunity he got to complain, and remind him of how much he didn’t want to be there.

As they walked down the street and then up the front steps of the trashy North Park house, Craig was suddenly overcome with an odd, off-putting feeling that told him they should get back in the truck and drive back home, before something awful happened; _‘bad vibes’_ was the only way he could think to describe it. But Kenny was already knocking on the front door, and there was no going back now.

A tall brunette guy who looked around their age answered the door. “Eyyy!” He spoke upon seeing Kenny. “Do my eyes deceive me or is that the infamous Kenny McCormick?”

“What’s up, dude,” Kenny grinned and nodded, and Craig stood there awkwardly and watched as they did some kind of weird, complicated handshake like a couple of frat boys.

“Man, I haven’t seen you around these parts in ages!” The brunette spoke again. “How’ve you been?”

“Well, I’m alive,” Kenny replied modestly.

“How are your folks?”

“Still the worst.”

“Ah,” The friend nodded. “And who’s this particularly angry-looking guy?” He asked, gesturing towards Craig, who narrowed his eyes at him, as if to say _“hey, watch it”._

Kenny chuckled. “This is Craig. He's my…” He paused, _“....friend_ from school,” He decided on.

Craig scoffed. “I’m _not_ your friend,” He stated, crossing his arms in annoyance.

Kenny looked at him then. “How would you prefer I introduce you then, Craig? ‘This is Craig, a guy that I'm fucking’?” He spoke, and his friend, whose name Craig still didn’t know, snickered quietly.

Craig rolled his eyes before turning to face Kenny again. “I would _prefer_ that you not drag me places that I don't wanna go. That way you won't have to deal with the heavy burden of introducing me at all.”

“Sounds more like a wife than a fuck buddy if you ask me,” The nameless friend commented amusedly, and Craig shot him another glare. “...You've always known how to pick ‘em, McCormick,” He added.

Ah, so this guy was fond of making obnoxious, snarky comebacks. _No wonder Kenny was friends with him._

“...Craig here’s a bit of an introvert,” Kenny explained, reaching up to ruffle Craig’s hair, and Craig immediately rolled his eyes and swatted Kenny’s hand away.

“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Kenny’s annoying friend remarked then.

“Alright, that's enough,” Craig cut their exchange of demeaning comments about him short. And they backed off then, Kenny’s friend clearing his throat awkwardly and shoving his hands in his pockets. “...Is there alcohol here?” Craig asked then.

“Of course,” The friend chuckled and nodded, stepping out of the way so Craig could enter the house.

He had a feeling this was gonna be a _long_ night.

 

* * *

 

With each hour that went by, Craig got progressively more annoyed and exhausted. It was one in the morning now, and Craig sat on the kitchen counter, in a house full of strangers, a red cup with some kind of alcohol in it in hand, which he wasn’t really drinking. He’d downed two drinks already, and he hadn’t seen Kenny since they had arrived at the party hours ago, and not being aware of what kind of condition he was in, Craig didn’t yet know if he would need to drive them home or not. So he decided to do the responsible thing for once, and not get completely wasted; though maybe that might’ve helped him better tolerate being stuck at this god-awful party.

As he stared down at the half-empty cup in his hand and absentmindedly swirled the liquid inside of it around, he noticed a girl approaching him out of the corner of his eye for the third time that night, and he let out a quiet huff of annoyance before looking up at her.

“You look awful lonely sittin’ over here all by yourself,” The girl spoke. She was on the shorter side and had long, brown hair. And like every other girl at this party, Craig had never seen her before in his life. It was weird to him; being around so many strangers. He didn’t like it. He felt extremely uncomfortable and out of place. “...You want some company?” The girl gently placed a hand on Craig’s thigh, and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

The girl wasn’t at all unattractive, really. But Craig was tired and irritated and y’know, gay, so he wasn’t particularly interested, and the only thing he wanted more than to go home was for this girl to leave him alone. “Wow. Y’know, as tempting as that sounds, I’m gonna have to go with no,” He replied flatly.  

The girl just giggled. “Oh come on. Don’t be like that,” She replied flirtatiously, twirling her hair around her finger, which Craig found extremely annoying and try-hard-ish.

“...Yeah, _I’m gay,”_ He said finally in a deadpan voice, pushing the girl’s hand off of his thigh. “Sorry to disappoint you,”  He added sarcastically.

The girl just made a disgusted face then. “...Whatever. You’re not that hot anyway,” She commented before turning to leave.

“Fucking bitch,” Craig muttered under his breath as the girl walked away before he hopped down from the kitchen counter, leaving his drink behind. He didn’t care if Kenny didn’t want to go home yet; he’d had just about enough of this. They were leaving _right now._

He wandered aimlessly around the house, through the crowds of strangers, searching for Kenny. But he was nowhere to be found. He even checked the backyard; it was empty. Eventually, however, Craig _did_ catch sight of Kenny’s friend who had answered the door earlier. And unfortunately, Kenny wasn’t with him and his group of friends either. “Hey, you,” Craig yelled over the music, waving at him awkwardly from across the livingroom, trying to get his attention.

“Me?”

Craig sighed annoyedly. “Yeah, you. Have you seen Kenny?”

The guy took a moment to think before responding. “Yeah, actually, I think I saw him go into the bathroom with some girl a couple minutes ago!” He yelled back.

Ah. So Kenny maintained the same trashy reputation in North Park that he did back at home.  

“For fuck’s sake,” Craig muttered to himself. “...Thanks,” He said to the guy with a nod before leaving to find the bathroom. He briefly considered asking the guy what his name was, but decided against it, because he most likely wouldn’t ever be seeing him again, and also he didn’t really care all that much to begin with. He would be forever known as simply, ‘the guy’.

Craig continued walking around the house until he located the bathroom, groaning annoyedly to himself before he reached for the doorknob. Surprisingly, the door wasn’t locked, and when he pushed it open, sure enough, there was Kenny with some blonde girl pinned up against the wall, mid-makeout. Craig rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night before walking over to them and tapping on Kenny’s shoulder. “Dude. Hey. Could you remove your tongue from that girl’s throat for a second.”

“Not now, dude,” Kenny waved him off, not even looking at him. Just as Craig had suspected, Kenny wasn't too keen on listening to him; but he didn’t appear to be drunk, or under the influence of any kind of illegal substance, though, so at least there was that.  

Craig grabbed his shoulder again, forcing him to turn around and look at him. _“Yes, now._ I can’t fucking stay here any longer. We’re leaving. Come on.”

“Dude, no, fuck off. I’m busy,” Kenny argued, gesturing towards the girl, who then spoke up;

“...Actually, my boyfriend is probably looking for me, I should go find him,” She chimed in.

Craig raised his eyebrows at her questioningly, then realizing he had no right to judge, turned back to face Kenny. “Oh wow, look at that, you have a type,” Craig said to him. “Now let’s go before her boyfriend finds _her_ first.”

The girl’s eyes widened then, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility that her boyfriend might catch them. “...Yeah, I should _really_ go,” She spoke again slowly, but she didn't leave; she was too busy exchanging vaguely suggestive glances with Kenny.

Craig let out an exasperated sigh, and similar to rolling his eyes, he felt as though it must've been the hundredth time that night that he had done so. “...Kenny, stop eye-fucking her and let her go,” He spoke annoyedly.

Kenny rolled his eyes. “I'm sorry. My friend here is a little crabby because he got dumped recently,” He said to the girl then, and Craig glared at him.

The girl just giggled. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I'll just catch up with you later,” She replied. “Bye, Kenny,” She added with a flirty wave.

“Call me.” Kenny winked at her, and she smiled at him before turning to leave.

“Yeah, don’t call him. He’s a fucking nightmare,” Craig called after her before turning to face Kenny again, who looked pretty fuckin’ annoyed with him. Craig waited until the girl was out of the room before speaking again. “...Who the fuck was that?” He asked when the door clicked shut.

Kenny shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What if her boyfriend had walked in here?”

Another shrug. “He didn’t, so it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”

Craig grabbed Kenny by his shoulders. “Why are you so fucking stupid?” He snapped, shaking him slightly, and oh, how ironic and hypocritical it was for Craig of all people to be asking such a question.

Kenny narrowed his eyes at Craig. “Dude, why are you being such a whiny little bitch? Are you jealous or something?”

“No, dude, I wanna fucking leave!” Craig yelled back frustratedly, letting go of Kenny then. Even if he _was_ jealous, he would never admit to it. He had no right to be, considering the nature of their relationship, and the nature of how his last relationship had ended.

It was no secret that Craig could only put up with Kenny for so long before he started to lose his fucking mind. And at this point, they were _way_ over that time limit. “We’ve been here for _hours,_ dude, can we _please_ go home?” He begged.

“No, I’m having fun,” Kenny argued, then attempted to cut the conversation short by turning to leave the room.

 _“I’m_ not!” Craig groaned, following him out of the bathroom and out into the hallway. “I didn’t even wanna come here in the first place!”

“I don’t care,” Kenny muttered, continuing to walk away from Craig, who just continued following closely behind him.

“Well yeah, clearly,” Craig scoffed. “But I came here because _you_ wanted to, even though _I_ didn’t, and you’re _still_ being a dick to me. It’s one o’clock in the fucking morning, you’ve had _plenty_ of time to have fun, _why_ can’t we go home now?”  

Kenny stopped walking then, and turned to face Craig again. He looked pissed. “Oh my god. If I offer to suck your dick later or something will you shut the fuck up?” He asked irritatedly, which earned them a few weird looks from some of the other people who were hanging out in the hallway that they were in. “All you fucking do is whine and complain.”

“I--” Craig started, ready to defend himself, but Kenny wasn’t having it.

“Why don’t you go find something to keep yourself occupied?” The blonde spoke over him. “In fact, why don’t you go make out with some random guy you barely know to compensate for the fact that your life is pathetic and unfulfilling? That seemed to keep you pretty entertained at the last party you went to,” He continued, speaking in that same cold, mocking tone of voice that he had once used _all_ the time when speaking to Craig. “Oh but wait, it probably won’t be as fun for you if you’re not doing it behind your boyfriend’s back, right? My bad.” He finished with a sneer, and Craig balled his right hand up into a fist at his side.

“You’re such an insufferable, self-centered jackass, Y’know that?” He spat back. It took everything in him not to hit Kenny. It really did. But they were in a room full of people, and he knew that _he_ would end up being the one who looked like an asshole if he did it, so he held himself back. But what he said next just might have set Kenny off even worse than punching him would have;

_“No wonder you don’t have any friends and your parents fucking hate you.”_

...Yikes.

He hadn’t realized how loudly he’d said it until he noticed how many people in the hallway were staring at him, and then he kind of wanted to put his hood up and pull the strings tight enough to hide his face forever, like Kenny used to do when they were kids.

Kenny’s expression shifted from mildly annoyed to absolutely enraged; his icy, unforgiving stare reminiscent of all the times Craig had set him off in the past. Except this time, Craig could’ve sworn that he could see tears starting to form in Kenny’s normally stoic eyes; and that was when he realized that he had fucked up _bad._ But before he could say anything, Kenny pushed past him and stormed off, headed towards the front door of the house.

_Ah, fuck._

Craig just stood there for a moment, not really sure if he should attempt to go after Kenny, or just let him cool off on his own. Craig had never been good at thinking on his feet. On one hand, he was kind of terrified to face Kenny when he was angry. But on the other hand, they had never been in public when this had happened before, and as much as Craig hated himself for actually caring, he was a bit worried for Kenny’s safety.

 _Who knows what his anger might drive him to do?_  

As Craig stood there in stunned silence, feeling like a complete jackass, he then noticed that a few people in the hallway who had witnessed his and Kenny’s brief argument were still giving him weird looks. “What the fuck are _you_ looking at?” He snapped, making eye contact with one of the girls that was staring at him, everyone in the small group of people then exchanging some awkward glances, some of them quietly murmuring “nothing” before turning their attention elsewhere, pretending as though they had been minding their own business the entire time. Craig heard the front door of the house slam shut then, and he sighed, knowing that he had to go after Kenny before he did something stupid.

He didn’t quite run, but walked rather quickly down the hallway and through the livingroom of the house, and when he made it out the front door he couldn’t help but think to himself, _‘well, at least we’re finally leaving this fucking party.’_

“Kenny, god dammit!” He yelled from the front porch, eyes scanning the front yard of the house and other surrounding areas where he might’ve run off to. “Where the fuck are you?” Shortly thereafter, he spotted Kenny walking down the street, in the direction of where they had parked the truck, and Craig hesitated before heading down the street after him.

Kenny looked back at him when he became aware of his presence.“Stop following me,” He said without stopping, or even slowing down.

“Dude, I’m sorry--” Craig panted, struggling to keep up with the blonde.

“No you’re not,” Kenny replied stubbornly, not looking back at him this time.

Well, he was half right. Craig _did_ feel awful; what he’d said to Kenny had been completely uncalled for in every way; specifically the part about his parents. But mostly, Craig just wanted Kenny to stop walking and calm the fuck down. And it wasn’t like Kenny ever watched what _he_ said to _Craig._ No, it was perfectly okay for _him_ to say things that were completely degrading and entirely out of line; but god forbid Craig slip up _once,_ after Kenny had _knowingly_ and _intentionally_ provoked him. But on the other hand, maybe Craig should’ve learned by now not to give Kenny the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to him; that he’d gotten a _reaction_ out of him. Because that was what he wanted, after all. Well, except for when he reacted _too much._ Like in this case, for example.

“Kenny, come on, stop. For fuck’s sake,” Craig pleaded.

But Kenny ignored him and continued down the street. And once he made it to where the truck was parked, he opened the door to the driver’s side and got in, then slammed it shut and locked it so Craig had no choice but to stay away from him.

But Craig caught up eventually and made his way over to the passenger side door, and then all he could do was wait for Kenny to calm down and unlock it. But it didn’t look like that would be happening anytime soon, if Craig didn’t talk him into it. Kenny didn’t look at him; his eyes stared straight ahead as he blinked back tears, never allowing them to fall. Never allowing himself to appear _weak_ in any way.

Craig tapped at the window gently and cautiously. “Dude, seriously. Come on. Let me in.”

No reaction.

“Kenny,” Craig sighed. “Really. I’m sorry.”

Still nothing.

“Kenny, please, it’s cold out here.”

Kenny reacted finally then, probably just out of annoyance and the want for Craig to shut the fuck up, and he silently reached over and pressed the button that unlocked the doors, still not making eye contact with Craig as he opened the passenger side door and joined him in the vehicle. Several minutes of almost unbearably tense silence followed then as both boys stared off in different directions, Kenny too stubborn to break the silence and Craig too terrified to. But eventually, Kenny spoke up.

“Why do you think you’re so much better than me?” He asked flatly, and Craig looked over at him, even though Kenny still continued to avoid making eye contact with him. His face showed no obvious emotion; no sign of tears anymore. But it didn’t take a genius to see that he was still angry… and _hurt;_ which was an emotion that Craig had never seen him display before.

“What?” Was all Craig could manage to say in response.

Kenny took a deep breath before speaking again. “...You look down on me. Like I’m the fucking scum of the earth, and you thank God every day that you didn’t turn out as fucked up as I am. Like I'm _such_ a _goddamn_ handful, and I should feel _lucky_ that you put up with me, even though you _chose_ to get involved with me, and _choose_ to _stay_ involved with me _every day._ You’re no saint either, Craig. In fact, to say that you’re far from it would be an understatement. You know it and I know it.” He paused, finally looking Craig in the eyes then, and Craig felt like maybe that was even worse than him refusing to make eye contact with him. “...We’re not all that different,” Kenny spoke again, staring right through him. “We’re both greedy, selfish fuck-ups. The only difference between us is that _you_ just can’t fucking admit to it. So stop acting like you’re above me, because you’re not.”

And then it was a staring contest. Craig stared at Kenny, wanting to tell him that he was wrong, that he wasn’t anything like him, but he couldn’t because he was right. And Kenny stared at Craig, knowing he was right, waiting for the reaction to his words that Craig was withholding, because he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But although his reactions were generally what fueled Kenny, this time, it hadn’t seemed as though he had simply been trying to provoke Craig, like he normally was. No, it seemed as though he had genuinely been trying to get a point across. Because he hadn’t only talked down on Craig; he had talked down on _himself_ as well. And that wasn’t something that Kenny tended to do on a regular basis. Or, well… _ever._

“...Y’know what, fine. You’re right,” Craig conceded, and the blonde’s razor-sharp gaze softened slightly then. But he still looked pissed, and Craig was still a little terrified. “I’m sorry. I had no right to say what I said to you in there. I just… you really fucking piss me off sometimes, dude,” He added, and it was a pretty pathetic excuse for an apology, but at least it was something.

“Yeah, well, you really piss me off sometimes too, so I guess we’re even then,” Kenny replied bitterly.

Craig sighed. “...Can we please just go home now?” He asked quietly, breaking eye contact with the blonde and turning to look out the window. And without another word, Kenny then reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, then started the truck, which prompted Craig to speak up again; “Are you sure you're okay to drive?” He asked.

“I'm _fine,_ Craig,” Kenny snapped, which just did the complete opposite of convince Craig that he was in fact _‘fine’._ But Craig decided not to question it any further, in order to avoid another argument that neither of them had the energy for at this point.  

And so they started down the road, turning off of the street of the trashy North Park house and onto the eerily empty main road that would take them home. And at that point, Craig thought it was safe to assume that the worst of this night was over; all he had to do now was endure the hour or so of uncomfortable silence that would come along with being stuck in a car with Kenny after they had fought… right?

_Wrong._

As they continued down the road, it didn’t take Craig very long to realize that something was off. The first time they drove past a sign displaying the speed limit, Craig couldn’t help but notice that they were going more than just a little bit over the number he had seen on the sign. He forced himself not to panic yet; maybe Kenny just didn’t realize how fast he was going, because they were the only car on the road, and he figured he didn’t need to pay much attention to his speed because it didn’t really matter that much.   

_...Right?_

“...Kenny?” Craig spoke softly, a small trace of worry in his voice.

The blonde did not react, and the truck seemed to be moving even faster now.

 _“Kenny,”_ Craig spoke again, much more firmly this time, looking over at the blonde. And just like earlier, following their argument, his eyes stared straight ahead; gaze unyielding and enraged.

And _then_ Craig allowed himself to panic.

“Kenny, _slow down,”_ Craig pleaded, trying his best to sound assertive and not give away how terrified he was. His heart began to race when Kenny still showed no reaction of any kind to his words, and they continued flying down the street at an undeniably dangerous speed.

They were approaching an intersection now, and Craig’s panic transformed into a full-on fear for his life when he spotted a car waiting at the stoplight. He prayed that the light wouldn't turn green until after they passed, but of course, it did, and the car began to move forward.

And Kenny didn't stop.

 _“Kenny, stop!”_ Craig shouted frantically.

 _Still_ no reaction. And then Craig knew how this would end if he didn't do something.

Instinctively, Craig unbuckled his seatbelt as quickly as he could, and then his hands reached around Kenny and grabbed ahold of the steering wheel, jerking it violently in the opposite direction of the car that they were about to crash into, and steering the truck off of the road. The loud, shrill screeching of the tires echoed through Craig’s ears, and although they had narrowly avoided the car on the road, the driver laying on the horn for a good thirty seconds as they drove off, Craig _didn’t_ have the time to steer out of the way of the fire hydrant on the curb.

It had all happened so fast, all that registered to him was the loud crash as he flew forward, nearly hitting his head on the windshield _(of course_ the truck didn't have working airbags), and then the deafening silence that followed as he let go of the steering wheel and fell back into the passenger seat, letting out the breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, followed by several more frantic, panting breaths. His heart was beating so fast, Craig felt as though it was about to jump right out of his chest.

Then as the initial shock faded, Craig’s eyes darted around, looking down at himself and then up at Kenny, making sure that neither of them had any major injuries (amazingly enough, they didn't) before then trying to determine the severity of the damage to Kenny’s parents’ truck. But he couldn't really see the damage to the truck from the inside of it, other than the small dent in the hood, and he felt like he might be sick if he tried to move, so he didn't even attempt to get out of the truck and examine it further. He was certain that the entire front of the truck must've been completely wrecked, though. However, the fire hydrant that they had hit wasn't spraying water everywhere, which was probably a good sign.

After determining that the car probably wasn't going to burst into flames or anything along those lines, and that they most likely were no longer in any kind of immediate danger, Craig looked up at Kenny, whose hands were still loosely gripping the steering wheel; eyes glazed over, just _staring_ out the windshield. He was there physically, but mentally, he appeared to be not at all present; _vacant._

 _“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”_ Craig shouted, and Kenny blinked several times before coming to his senses and slowly turning his head to face Craig. 

“I-- I’m sorry--” He spoke finally, in a dazed, monotonous voice. “...I don’t… I don’t know why I did that. I was mad and I just--”  

“You’re _sorry?!”_ Craig yelled back, absolutely livid. “You almost fucking killed us! Do you have any idea how much worse that could've been if I hadn't done something?!”

“I-- I didn't mean to--”

“Oh well as long as you didn't _mean_ to. Then it's fine!” Craig replied derisively. “Y’know, if you wanna be reckless and self-destructive and get yourself killed in a fucking car wreck, then by all means, go ahead. But don’t do it while _I’m_ in the fucking car with you. I didn’t sign up for this.”

Craig reached for the door handle then,  pushing the door of the passenger side of the truck open and stepping out of the vehicle.

“Where are you going?” Kenny looked at him, expression slightly panicked.

“I'm getting the fuck out of here!” Craig yelled, slamming the door shut, but then he felt dizzy and he grabbed ahold of it again in order to steady himself.

Kenny opened the driver’s side door then. “Craig,” He called after him. “Craig, please don't leave, I don't know what to do,” He pleaded, getting out of the truck as well.

“Call the cops!” Craig yelled in response from the other side of the truck.

“I can't call the cops, I don't have a driver's license and I was driving an unregistered vehicle!” Kenny shouted back at him.

“Well then you'd better call someone else to get you out of this before a cop happens to drive by or something,” Craig replied, “...because I'm fucking _done_ ,” He added bitterly.

Kenny went quiet then, looking away from Craig and down at his feet, and Craig turned to walk away. At this point, he couldn’t care any less about what happened to Kenny, and what kind of trouble he would get in for this. But when Craig stomped off, the blonde ran after him.  

“Craig,” He said quietly when he caught up with him, grabbing ahold of the sleeve of his sweatshirt in a final, desperate attempt to get him to stay there with him. And Craig would’ve thought that it was odd and uncharacteristic of him, but he was too preoccupied with trying to get the fuck away from him, and then there was the fact that these weren’t exactly their normal everyday circumstances.  

“No! I’m not helping you out of this!” Craig replied angrily, yanking his arm out of Kenny’s grasp. “I’m done with you and all of your moody, psychotic bullshit!”

Kenny’s eyes widened slightly at that, and he opened his mouth to speak again. “But I nee--” He stopped himself abruptly, mid-sentence, averting his gaze once again.

“What?” Craig replied annoyedly, raising a brow at him, not being able in that moment to put together what it was that Kenny had started to say.

“Nothing, just leave,” Kenny muttered quickly.

Craig rolled his eyes. “Fine! I was already going to anyway!”

“Good!” Kenny screamed back. “I'll fucking deal with this on my own like everything else in my life!”

Craig’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Really? You almost got us killed and you're gonna play that card?”

“Why not!? It's true!” Kenny yelled defensively.

“Yeah?” Craig spoke again. “Well after this, I don't feel all that bad for you, so save it.” He said coldly. _“Now_ I’m leaving.”

And that was that. Kenny just stared at him silently then, out of words to say, eyes wide, conflicted, and terrified. 

And with that, Craig left. He walked away.

As he walked rather hastily down the road and away from the scene of the accident, he glanced back at the truck; the front of it was completely smashed and dented beyond repair. Craig didn't give a shit, but he knew that Kenny’s parents would be absolutely furious.

As Craig continued walking, around the corner and then a few more blocks after that, he could feel his eyes beginning to water, and he allowed the tears to fall; streaming down his face in a continuous flow. But before long, the tears began to cloud his vision, and he was beginning to feel sick and lightheaded, so he forced himself to stop and sit down on the curb; it was a _long_ walk back to South Park, and he would never make it in his current condition. He buried his head in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably, not caring at this point if anyone drove past and saw him, _and_ not caring that he had already cried _so_ much over the duration of past month.

After crying for quite some time, for some reason his next instinct was to reach into his back pocket and pull out his phone, and next thing he knew, he was dialing the only phone number that he actually had memorized; not Clyde’s, not his parents’... but Tweek’s.

It rang for thirty seconds and then went to voicemail, which wasn’t at all surprising, because it was two in the morning, _and_ Tweek fucking hated him, but still, Craig couldn’t stop himself from leaving a message.

“Tweek, I know you hate me but if you’re listening to this, _please_ call me,” He sobbed into the phone. He just wanted to hear Tweek’s voice again. And maybe it was incredibly selfish of him in every way, to only contact him again when things with Kenny started going wrong, but he didn't care. “Please,” He coughed, before breaking out into another fit of sobs and pressing the red ‘end call’ button, then shoving his phone back into his pocket.  

After another fifteen minutes or so, he finally began to calm down. And then, even though he so desperately wished that Kenny’s well-being could've been the very last thing on his mind, still, he found himself beginning to worry about him.

He spent a few minutes debating whether he should call him or not, to make sure that he was okay, but decided against it. He’d been fine when Craig had left. Well, _physically_ fine, anyway. It was no secret that Kenny wasn't exactly emotionally stable in any way. But as Craig stood up and then resumed his long journey home, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened after he left the scene. He’d never heard any sirens or anything. But Kenny had almost gotten him killed, so he supposed that he probably shouldn’t care.

Craig also briefly considered calling someone to come pick him up, but then decided that it would probably be best not to get anybody else involved. After the rather traumatic events of the night, the last thing he needed was to be lectured; by his parents, or a friend, or whoever he would’ve ended up calling. He couldn’t stand to be suffocated by other people’s words anymore. So he just enjoyed the bittersweet silence as he walked, and a feeling of numbness washed over him. He felt as though he was in a dream; left alone with nothing but his thoughts, and the empty road in front of him that stretched on for miles. But at least, _finally,_ there was nobody around to pester him. Nobody around to expect anything from him. The silence was eerie, but somehow comforting at the same time. And it was just what he needed;

 _Silence._ Complete and utter silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol Kenny is wild  
> Also something I probably should've mentioned before: in this story, Kenny doesn't die all the time like he does on the show and he's not immortal, just bc I want the ridiculous impulsive shit that he's doing to actually seem as dangerous as it is lmao, u feel me? It makes his backstory a lil less angsty but more realistic tho


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so this chapter is short because it's mostly dialogue aaaaaaaa I'm sorry. The next one will definitely be longer though.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise. How nice of you to finally call and let me know that you’re not dead.”

Clyde’s voice sounded almost foreign to Craig, it had been so long since they’d spoken. It was late the next afternoon now, and Craig was determined to face the aftermath of all of his mistakes, and leave all encounters with the ever-enticing, impulsive, and emotionally unstable Kenny McCormick exactly where they belonged; in the past.

Craig sighed, reaching up to rub his neck, which was sore from the night before. He was still amazed that he had managed to only acquire such a minor injury from the incident. “Hey, dude,” Craig spoke into the phone, tone of voice cautious and apologetic. “...I’m really sorry,” He added, though those words really didn’t hold much meaning, given that his actions up to this point had most definitely proven otherwise. And Clyde was quick to call him out.

“It’s a little late to do damage control, don’t you think?” He replied harshly.

Craig gulped. “Dude, I know you’re pissed at me, and you have every right to be, but--”

“I know I do,” Clyde interrupted. “You don’t need to tell me that.”

There was silence then, and Craig found himself looking down at his hands, absentmindedly picking at his fingernails out of anxiety. “...So how’s school?” He asked quietly then, attempting to change the subject of the conversation. He was just happy to be talking to his best friend again, and he didn't wanna fuck it up by making him even angrier than he already was. 

“It’s fine, I guess,” Clyde replied annoyedly. “How’s wasting your senior year away fucking a guy you can’t stand?”

_Ouch._

_“...Well,”_ Craig started. He still wasn't sure that he wanted to tell Clyde about the accident, but fuck, he needed to tell _someone._ “Last night he uh... crashed his parents’ pickup truck into a fire hydrant and I had to walk home from North Park all alone at two in the morning…” He mumbled, not much emotion behind his voice. “...So that was… interesting,” He cleared his throat awkwardly, still picking at his nails. “...It was almost a lot worse, too. He was heading right for another car and I uh, grabbed the wheel and steered us off the road at the last second…” Craig trailed off embarrassedly, knowing that another lecture from Clyde was probably in his near future.   

Clyde didn’t say anything for a few moments, and Craig ripped off a small piece of one of his fingernails and watched it fall to the ground, and then he heard Clyde sigh on the other line.

“I’m still really fucking mad at you,” He spoke. “...but I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Craig’s lips curled up into a very faint but still present smile of relief. “...Well it’s good to know that you don’t hate me enough to want me dead,” He replied, earning another sigh from Clyde.

“You know I could never hate you, dude,” He spoke again. “...I probably _should,_ but I can’t.”

Craig frowned at that. “Well, I’m pretty sure I hate myself enough for the both of us, so I guess that makes up for it,” He chuckled weakly, and when Clyde said nothing, he quickly changed the subject again. “...How’s Tweek?” He asked hesitantly. He knew it was a bad question to ask, that would most certainly only get a bad reaction, but he needed to know. Tweek hadn't called him back and he was getting desperate now.

Clyde scoffed then. “Y'know, I shouldn’t even tell you," He snapped. " _In fact,_ I shouldn't have even answered the phone when you called me." 

_Well, he wasn't wrong._

“Clyde, come on, please,” Craig pleaded. _“...I miss him.”_

Again, Clyde didn’t say anything for a while. But then he sighed. “...He’s not good, Craig,” He said finally. “He’s--” He stopped. “Yknow what, no. I shouldn't be talking about this.”

“No, what is it?” Craig urged, tone growing more panicked. “Is he okay?”

Clyde hesitated, but eventually he gave in. “...He’s cutting himself, dude.”

Craig felt his whole body tense up, unable to process what his friend had just told him. _“What?”_

“Yeah,” Clyde replied nervously. “I saw the marks on his arm at lunch a couple days ago. He was moving his hair out of his face and his sleeve fell down... I didn’t say anything but I’m pretty sure he saw me looking.”

“Oh my god,” Craig mumbled mostly to himself, and now flooding into his mind were images of Tweek; sweet, gentle, innocent little Tweek, standing over his bathroom sink, door locked, clutching a razor blade in his hand, then dragging it across his frail, bony wrist. _And it was all Craig’s fault. Oh god._ “He’s never done anything that… _severe_ before,” He said then, voice cracking a bit.

“Yeah, well, what do you expect?” Clyde replied harshly. “You really hurt him, Craig.”

Craig moved the phone away from his ear for a moment as he attempted to fully take in the information that he had just been given. He wanted more than anything for it to not be true. But it was; and it was all because of him. Yes, it was true that Craig wasn’t physically forcing Tweek to harm himself; but what Craig had done to him was undoubtedly the reason behind it. And the level of guilt that he was feeling was unbearable; _sickening,_ almost. Actually no, scratch that, not almost. He _definitely_ felt sick. And to make matters worse, Clyde was nowhere near done lecturing him.

“...He talks to me about it,” Clyde started again. “Calls me at three in the morning, crying, asking why he wasn’t good enough for you. You fucked up big time, Craig. And honestly, it’s like you don’t even care. Because you _act_ like you feel _so_ terrible about all the damage you’ve caused, and you apologize, but then you go off and keep fucking around with Kenny! Do you have any idea how it makes Tweek feel when he hears everyone at school talking about it?” Clyde raised his voice more and more with every sentence that left his mouth. “And he would kill me if he knew that I was telling you this, because he doesn't want you to know how much this is affecting him, but honestly, you _need_ to know. Because you should feel fucking _awful.”_

Craig let out a shaky exhale. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep himself composed; but he deserved this. _All of it._ “...I know. You’re right,” He agreed. “And I do feel awful.”  

“Then why do you keep doing it?!” Clyde exclaimed angrily. “God, whatever happened to ‘I’m not into him, he’s a dick’? Remember that?”

“I know,” Craig repeated. “...It doesn’t make any sense. It never did.” He paused, “...but I think that after what happened last night I’m finally gonna be able to break things off with Kenny.”

“Well, y’know, that’s great and all, but it shouldn’t have taken something that drastic to push you enough to do the right thing,” Came Clyde’s harsh, unforgiving response, and now Craig was blinking back tears.

“...I know,” Craig repeated once again. It was all he could think to say. And just when he thought that he couldn’t possibly feel any worse than he did right now, his phone screen lit up, notifying him that he had another call waiting.

_And it was Tweek._

“Shit, he’s calling me, I gotta go,” Craig said quickly, and before letting him go, Clyde spoke up one more time;

“Don’t you dare try to bullshit him with any excuses, Craig,” He said firmly. “He’s not stupid.”

"...I know," Craig repeated for the fourth time. "...Keep an eye on him for me, alright?” He added.

"I am," Clyde replied. "...But I'm not doing it for you." 

And then he hung up. And Craig kind of wanted to pick up a heavy, breakable object and throw it across the room, but he didn't have time. So instead, he took a deep breath before accepting Tweek's call. “Tweek, oh my god, hi--”

“Are you okay?” Tweek cut him off immediately, voice heavily laced with obvious concern, but also anger.

“What?”

“I heard about what happened last night. The accident. Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm alright,” Craig replied, confused.  “...How did you find out about that?”

“Wendy heard about it from Bebe, and Wendy told Stan, and Stan told Token, and then Token told me,” Tweek explained, speaking so quickly that Craig could barely understand him.

“Ah,” Craig nodded to himself. _But wait, how did Bebe know?_

_Whatever. Not important._

There was silence then, but before it could get too tense or awkward, Tweek spoke again. “...Why did you call me last night?”

Craig sighed. “I don’t really know, I just… after the accident your phone number was the only one I could remember.” He paused, outwardly cringing at how fake and ridiculous what he'd just said had sounded, even though it was true. “...I miss you.”

Tweek scoffed at that. “Oh, so now that things with Kenny aren’t working out anymore, now you miss me?” He spat back angrily.

Craig winced. It really did seem that way, didn’t it? “Tweek,” He sighed, trying to find the right words to say; trying to figure out what he could say or do that wouldn’t make things even worse, for _once._ He had to at least _try_ to explain himself. “...I know you probably don’t wanna hear this, but I’m so sorry, Tweek. I really--”

“You’re right,” Tweek interrupted, calm and assertive, which caught Craig off-guard. He hadn't expected Tweek to act this way, after Clyde had described him as being in such a _fragile_ condition. But then again, of course Tweek wouldn't want to let that show. Of course he wouldn't want Craig to _know._ “Whatever you have to say, I don’t wanna hear it,” He paused. “...So why don’t you listen to what _I_ have to say?”

“Of course,” Craig complied immediately. He definitely at least owed Tweek that much. He heard the other male take a deep breath then.

“Y’know, people warned me about you,” He started again, and Craig attempted to brace himself for all of the harsh words that would most likely follow, that he _definitely_ deserved to have thrown at him. “...They told me not to date you,” Tweek continued. “They told me that you were an emotionally unavailable asshole, who didn’t care about anyone or anything. They told me that I would never get the same time, effort, and dedication back from you that I gave to you,” Tweek’s voice was shaky and quiet and weak-sounding now, but still, he continued; said every word that he needed to say. And Craig couldn't help but wonder who exactly had said all of this to him. “...And I didn't listen. I told them _‘Oh, no, that's all an act. He’s not really like that once you get to know him.’_ ” Tweek took another rather apprehensive-sounding deep breath then; like he was debating whether or not he should say what he intended on saying next. But although he may have been far from one hundred percent confident, still, he forced the words out;

“...But y’know what? _I should’ve listened.”_

And Craig felt his heart sink when he heard those words. “Tweek, I--”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Tweek cut him off yet again, even though he sounded like he was about to cry. “...But don’t call me again.”

And then Tweek hung up, giving Craig no opportunity to explain or defend himself; leaving him dumbfounded and entirely speechless. He fell back onto his mattress then and grabbed the nearest pillow, screaming into it before throwing it down onto the floor, then closing his eyes and reaching up to massage his temples in an attempt to alleviate at least _some_ of the stress that he was feeling. How had he managed to make every person he knew fucking  _despise_ him so much? 

But before he could allow himself to enter a deeper state of distress over the situation, his phone screen lit up  _again (Wow, he sure was popular today);_ this time, with a notification that he had a Facebook message from Bebe.

_Huh._

**Bebe Stevens:** Hey, I didn’t have your number so I figured sending you a message on here would be my best bet. Call me when you see this. It’s important.

And then came another message with her phone number. After what Tweek told had told him, Craig could only assume that she must want to talk to him about something involving Kenny. And because of that, he was hesitant to go ahead with calling her. He had sworn that he would no longer be involved with anything having to do with Kenny McCormick after what had happened the night before. And yet, there he was, dialing Bebe’s number anyway, because he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been worrying about Kenny all day long; he let his concern get the best of him.

He sat up on his bed again as he finished dialing Bebe’s number, and it rang three times before she picked up.  

“Hello?”

Craig sighed quietly, still rather shaken up from the conversation he had just had with Tweek. “Hey, it’s Craig,” He spoke.

“I thought so,” Bebe replied warmly. “How are you holding up?”

Craig hesitated before responding. “...I’m alright,” He lied.

“I know you’re lying, but I’ll pretend like I believe you,” Bebe replied playfully, and Craig chuckled weakly. Bebe cleared her throat. “...So uh, your little boy toy called me from North Park last night,” She got right to the point then. “I had to go pick him up.”

 _“Kenny?”_ Craig exclaimed a little too quickly. He had momentarily forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to care about what Kenny did anymore.

“Mhm,” Bebe hummed in response.

“...Wait, why would he call _you?”_ Craig asked then.

“...You could say we’re friends, I guess…” Bebe replied awkwardly, trailing off, and Craig knew that by that, she had most definitely meant _‘we’ve hooked up, and on more than one occasion’,_ and he really wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“...Is he alright?” He asked anxiously, absolutely hating himself for actually giving a shit.

Bebe sighed then. “...Yeah, that’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about,” She replied nervously.

“What do you mean?” Craig asked her.

Silence.  

“...He’s losing his shit, Craig,” Bebe spoke again after a few moments. “And I feel obligated to warn you about what's gonna happen if you decide to keep enabling his behavior the way you have been, because I know how he is.”

Craig had been lectured by so many people today he felt like screaming (again); first by his parents when he had arrived home at five in the morning, then by Clyde, then Tweek, and now Bebe. But he knew that every person who had laid into him today had absolutely every right to, so he just swallowed his pride and allowed it to continue. “What exactly do you mean when you say he's losing his shit?” He asked hesitantly, knowing by the tone Bebe had spoken in that he probably didn’t want to know the answer.

“Well, when I got there last night he was fucking hysterical. Would _not_ stop crying--”

“Really?” Craig questioned, unintentionally cutting Bebe off. The idea of Kenny crying was such an odd concept to him.

“Oh yeah,” Bebe confirmed. “And I wanted to call someone but he wouldn’t let me. So I drove him back to my place and waited for him to calm the fuck down, and then he talked about _you_ for a while and--”

“Me?” Craig interrupted again. “What did he say?”

“Well I was gonna tell you but now you’ve cut me off twice and I don’t think I should,” Bebe teased him, tone of voice extremely casual and lighthearted, despite the rather heavy topic of their conversation. And Craig found himself to be a bit jealous of how laid back she managed to be all the time.

“...Sorry,” He mumbled.

“Nah, it’s fine.” She giggled. “Seriously though, I can’t tell you.”

Craig groaned. “Why not?”

“...When he gets like that he says a lot of stuff he doesn’t mean,” Bebe explained. “It’s not really my place to tell you.”

“Great, so he was talking about what an asshole I am,” Craig muttered back.

“Actually, it wasn’t all bad stuff,” Bebe informed him. “...But like I said, I can’t get into it”

“Fine,” Craig said dismissively. “So what happened to his parents’ truck?”

“I don’t know, we had to leave it there,” Bebe answered. “Probably got towed. Which his parents aren’t gonna be too thrilled about, to say the least.”

“Fuck,” Craig said under his breath. “I really should’ve tried harder to talk him out of taking that truck.”

“Nah, don’t stress about it,” Bebe replied nonchalantly. “He wouldn’t have listened to you anyway.”

“...Yeah, you’re probably right,” Craig agreed.

“Anyway,” Bebe started again. “he just left my place a couple minutes ago, and I’m watching Karen for him until he feels okay enough to take care of her again.”

“She’s at your house?”

“Yeah. I told my mom she needed a place to stay for a couple days and she knows how awful their parents are so she was cool with it,” Craig then heard the sound of Bebe opening a can of soda and taking a sip out of it before she spoke again. “...Kenny told me what you said to him about his parents last night, by the way. Not cool, dude,” She scolded him.

Craig rolled his eyes. “Look, I already apologized to him for that, okay? Yeah, it was shitty, but he was being a dick," He attempted to justify his comments from the night before. Fuck Kenny's feelings. 

“You can’t let him get to you like that, man,” Bebe said casually, and Craig’s eyes widened.

“Dude, no offense, but if you know him even _half_ as well as I do then how can you say that?”  

“Because he doesn’t intimidate me,” Bebe replied simply.

 _"How?”_ Craig blurted out, causing Bebe to laugh a little bit.

“He used to, before I saw him at his worst. I’ll admit that,” She said. “But listen. Here’s how Kenny works, alright? All that power he has over people? It’s an act,” She paused. “...An illusion, really.”

“It’s not an illusion if it _works,”_ Craig pointed out.  

“You didn’t let me finish,” Bebe spoke again. “See, he has so little control over his own life. So he puts on this facade that allows him to control _other_ people, and take whatever he wants from them;  _if_ you allow it to work. And if you let him, he’ll take everything,” She paused, and Craig heard her take another sip of her soda. “...Except for no as an answer, of course. Because he wants other people to feel powerless, the same way _he_ does. But if you don’t _let_ him, and you take _away_ the illusion of power and control, his whole world will start to crumble. Because that’s all he knows. And when he feels _threatened,_ that's when he crashes,” Another pause. “...Usually metaphorically, rather than _literally_ crashing into a fire hydrant, but you get the point.”

“Jesus Christ,” Craig mumbled under his breath. He considered asking how exactly Bebe had come to acquire all of this knowledge about Kenny; he couldn’t help but wonder just how many times she’d supposedly witnessed the downfall of Kenny McCormick. And he couldn’t recall a specific period of time that he had seen Bebe hanging around Kenny a lot. The only person he knew of that Bebe fooled around with occasionally was Clyde, which was how Craig had come to get to know her better than any of the other girls at school. But Craig never really got out much (before Kenny came along, anyway), and Bebe was a rather private person, so maybe that was why he’d never heard anything about any kind of relationship between Kenny and Bebe. Or maybe he’d simply blocked it out because he didn’t care; after all, such a topic wouldn’t have held any meaning to him at that point in his life. But looking back on his own experiences with Kenny now, he could make an educated assumption that Bebe had probably been through all the same things he had; but worse. “...So what am I supposed to _do,_ exactly?” Craig asked her.

“See, now that’s where it gets even _more_ complicated,” Bebe started again. “Because now he’s in a very _fragile_ state. And you’re gonna be stuck dealing with the fallout, because you need to break things off, but it’s too late to make him back off without doing some serious damage. Because he has one major flaw; he gets _attached_ to people,” She explained. “Not very easily, but once it happens, it’s dangerous to try to get rid of him. But you have to, Craig. Or you’re gonna be stuck in this cycle forever.”

Craig sighed. The last time he’d had to take in such an overwhelming amount of information at once was back when he had actually gone to school on a regular basis.  “...I’m still unclear as to what I’m supposed to do,” He said slowly.  

"You need to go and put an end to whatever it is that you guys have been doing,” Bebe replied firmly. “Stand your ground, but be gentle with him.”

Craig scoffed. “Oh yeah, because historically he's been _so_ considerate of  _my_ feelings,” He said sarcastically.

Bebe sighed at that. “Look, I know you don’t exactly _owe_ it to him to be careful with his feelings, because he’s not careful with anyone or anything, but trust me. If you think things are messy _now,_ just wait until you try to leave him and you actually mean it.”

Craig couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at the _‘and you actually mean it’_ comment, because in all honesty, he _had_ meant it, _every_ time he’d told Kenny to fuck off; Kenny just didn’t fucking _listen._ “Honestly, I don’t really see how this situation could _possibly_ get any worse than it already is,” Craig chuckled halfheartedly, and for some reason, he actually felt _guilty_ for saying it. He almost felt... _bad_ for talking about Kenny behind his back like this. He shouldn’t have, just like he probably shouldn’t have given a fuck about Kenny’s well-being anymore, but he did. He _cared._ He fucking _hated_ Kenny, more than he had ever hated anyone in his entire life; but he wasn’t heartless.

“Don’t jinx it now,” Bebe laughed quietly, which was then followed by, “Hold on a second,” and then Craig heard the muffled voice of another girl, which most likely belonged to Karen. And then Craig couldn’t make out what Bebe was saying anymore, and he assumed that she had moved the phone away from her ear to speak with Karen. He heard them exchange a few words before she returned to their conversation. “I gotta go. Karen needs help with her homework,” Bebe said apologetically. “ ...Seriously though, if I were you, I would go talk to Kenny. And sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Craig replied apprehensively. “Bad things always happen when I do that.”

“Yeah, but _worse_ things are gonna happen if you don’t,” Bebe warned him, tone of voice making a sudden shift from casual to urgent, and Craig let out an irritated, defeated sigh before reaching over to grab his jacket, which was hanging on his bedpost.

“...Thanks for the heads up,” He mumbled.

“Mhm,” Bebe replied cheerfully. “Call me if you need anything else, okay?”

“Alright,” He said as he slipped his shoes on, holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder. “Thanks again. Bye.” He finished tying his shoes, then pressed the ‘end call’ button after Bebe said goodbye as well, and then shoved his phone into the pocket of his jacket.

He left his bedroom then and made his way downstairs and towards the front door, determined to end things with Kenny once and for all. He didn't know what exactly he was going to say yet; he decided that he would figure it out on the way to Kenny's house. But because fate had decided long ago to have it out for Craig, and to never give him a break under any circumstances, when he opened the front door of his house to leave, the blonde in question was already there, one hand outstretched to knock on the door, which was now quite unnecessary.

And to make matters even worse, he appeared to be drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao here comes The Sadness™  
> Also thank you again to everyone who's been commenting on this fic. I'm always pretty insecure about my writing but for the past few weeks especially I've just been less than confident about my writing abilities and it's really difficult for me to write when I get like that, but going back and reading the comments that people have left really helped me out so yeah, I appreciate you all so much aaaaaa thank you


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy I am so sorry this took literally a month. I've been busy and also I rewrote this chapter like four times because I wasn't happy with it ahaha I hope it doesn't suck because this is an Important Chapter™ and I really wanted it to be good and yeah aaaaaaa. Also I'm sorry if there's any seemingly obvious mistakes in this chapter, there was tons of distracting shit going on at my house while I was trying to edit it and I couldn't focus at all lmao. But I tried !!!

“Heyy Craig,” Kenny slurred, and even from a few feet away, Craig could smell the alcohol on his breath when he spoke.

Craig sighed. _Well, this was probably exactly what Bebe had just been trying to warn him about. Too bad she hadn’t contacted him sooner._ “Y’know, you could at least shoot me a text first before you just show up at my front door, if you’re gonna keep making a habit of it,” Craig said, and Kenny hiccuped before breaking out into a fit of giggles. Craig rolled his eyes. “Are you drunk?” Craig asked him then, though there was really no way that the answer to that question _possibly_ could have been no. But that didn’t stop Kenny from attempting to deny it at _least_ once.

“N-no--” The blonde stuttered.

“Noticeably?” Craig raised a brow at him. “That’s what I thought.”

“Okay, fine. _Yes,”_ Kenny admitted with another giggle, “What can I say? I drink when I’m depressed… my parents keep a lot of--” another hiccup, “--alcohol in the house.”

 _Well, that was new information._ Thank God both of Craig’s parents were still at work. He already wasn’t very skilled when it came to talking his way out of things, but this situation in particular most likely would have been _especially_ difficult to have to explain. His sister would be home soon, though, so that was another problem.

Craig let out another annoyed sigh. “You know that alcohol is actually a depressant, right?” He replied. “...Which means that it just makes you feel _worse_ when you drink that much of it, in case you don’t know what that means,” He added. And though whatever kind(s) of alcohol Kenny had consumed before walking to Craig’s house clearly wasn’t having that kind of effect on him at the current moment, it was only a matter of time. And as much as Craig didn’t want to be around when it _did_ happen, he knew he probably wouldn’t be that lucky.

“Mm. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me _that,_ I’d be able to afford _good_ alcohol,” The blonde said, speech still a slurred, barely coherent disaster with emphasis being put on random words that didn’t make sense in the context they were being used in. “Or y’know, the repairs to my parents’ truck. Or college. Or my own house, as far away from the hellhole that is South Park as possible… y’know, you’re _kinda_ makin’ me feel worse,” He rambled on. “Maybe _you’re_ the depressant.”

Craig just looked at him for a minute then, contemplating how it had gotten to the point that he’d become so used to things like this happening that it barely even phased him anymore. “...Okay yeah, no, I'm not doing this,” He said blankly. “I stand by what I said last night. I'm done. This isn’t my problem.”

But in his head, he was just as conflicted as ever. He definitely didn’t _owe_ Kenny anything. He wasn’t obligated to put up with him, just because he had now decided to hit the self-destruct button. But on the other hand, could he really kick Kenny out on the street when he was in a condition like this? And why couldn’t he have been this concerned about doing the right thing back when he had decided that it would be a good idea to cheat on Tweek and start fucking around with Kenny?

“Y-you were leaving to come see me, though,” Kenny said in an accusatory manner, pointing at him for some reason. “I _know_ you were.”

“Yeah, to let you know that this is _over,”_ Craig insisted. “...Whatever _‘this’_ is, exactly.” He didn’t really know why he was even bothering, with the condition that Kenny was in. He would listen even _less_ than he usually did, if that was even possible. That and the fact that he probably wouldn’t even _remember_ this conversation later. But still, Craig stubbornly continued to argue back. “I’m lucky to even be _alive_ after that shit you pulled last night. You’re fucking _crazy,_ and fooling around with you isn’t worth risking my life ov--”

“Don’t call me that!” Kenny yelled, cutting him off. But then he lowered his voice. “...I’m not crazy,” He trailed off.

Craig scoffed. “You’re not _sane.”_

“Dude, l-look, I’m _sorry_ about what happened last night but I--”

“Kenny, no,” Craig stopped him. “Sorry’s not gonna cut it. I can’t believe you _still_ don’t understand how much danger you put _both_ of us in! We _seriously_ could’ve died--”

“I know that!” Kenny yelled back. “But we _didn’t!”_

“That’s not the point!” Craig shouted. _God, this argument really was fucking pointless._

Kenny opened his mouth to speak again, but then he put a hand over his mouth. “Dude, can we put this argument on hold? I think I’m gonna be sick,” He said, the words muffled.

 _God dammit,_ Craig thought to himself. He was about to do it again. He was about to let Kenny in his _fucking_ house again. And he didn’t know if it was because he felt like he _had_ to, or if it was because he actually _cared_ about the other male. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that he knew _full well_ that somewhere along the line, he had started to actually give a shit about Kenny to some extent; he just wasn’t ready to _admit_ _it_ yet.

“...You know where the bathroom is,” He sighed, giving in, after a few brief moments of silent contemplation. He then stepped out of the way so that Kenny could enter the house.

The blonde just nodded at Craig quickly before pushing past him and taking off towards the downstairs bathroom of the house, one hand still covering his mouth. And a few seconds later, Craig heard the unmistakable sound of Kenny vomiting; hopefully into the toilet, and not all over the floor. And then he groaned quietly to himself in annoyance before making his way to the bathroom as well, leaning up against the doorway of the room and watching disapprovingly from a safe distance as Kenny emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He was kneeling down in front of it, hands tightly clutching the bowl. His orange parka had been tossed aside, onto the floor next to him.

When Kenny became aware of the other male’s presence, he looked up at him. “Y’know, you standing there watching me isn't making this any less humiliating,” He coughed.

Craig shrugged, crossing his arms. “Just makin’ sure you don’t fall in or anything.”

Kenny narrowed his eyes at him. “Very funny,” He managed before gagging again, then turning back towards the toilet, and Craig looked away this time as Kenny resumed vomiting. And he couldn’t help but think that if he had seen Kenny like this months ago, maybe that would’ve worked in his favor and killed his attraction to him a little bit.

Craig pulled his phone out and checked the time; 4:23 pm. Ruby would be home any minute now, and he hoped to God that she wouldn’t have to walk in on this.

By the time Kenny finally finished puking, several minutes later, Craig had come up with a plan to have Kenny hide in his room until later that night, when it would be safe for him to leave without anyone noticing, since he most likely didn’t plan on leaving after this, and Craig’s parents would be coming home eventually as well. But when Craig looked over at the blonde, he was just… laying down on his back, in the middle of the bathroom floor, face in his hands. And then Craig heard sniffling. And before he could say anything, Kenny began to cry.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Craig muttered under his breath as he put his phone back into his pocket, then walked over to where the blonde was laying and knelt down next to him, gently grabbing him by his shoulders and forcing him to sit up. “Hey. You can’t do this right now,” He spoke, shaking Kenny lightly. “Seriously. My sister is gonna be home soon and you can’t be drunk and crying on our bathroom floor when she gets here. You _gotta_ pull yourself together.”

Kenny looked up at him then, but looking Craig in the eyes only made him start crying even harder. “I’m sorry-- I can’t-- stop--” He sobbed.

“Jesus Christ,” Craig groaned, letting go of Kenny and standing up again. He began pacing nervously back and forth across the room. “Well this is just fucking _fantastic,”_ He muttered.

Kenny continued sobbing then, sitting up against the wall hugging his knees, his face buried in them. And Craig just stood there, unsure of what to do. He felt the need to at least _try_ to comfort Kenny, even though that was the very _last_ thing he wanted to do. And he wasn’t sure in the slightest how to go about doing it, either. Seeing Kenny in a state of such weakness and vulnerability made Craig… uncomfortable, almost; it being so uncharacteristic of him. He couldn’t even imagine how much more uncomfortable Kenny must have felt about it, though, given his usual refusal to allow himself to appear weak in any way. Which was probably why it had taken him getting absolutely _wasted_ for it to finally happen. And Craig still couldn’t believe that he was _actually_ witnessing Kenny McCormick _crying._ And he was also beginning to wonder how Kenny had managed to walk all the way to his house.

Kenny looked up at him again. “I’m so sorry, Craig,” He spoke, in-between sobs and shallow, broken breaths. “...For everything.”

Craig frowned. Why did he have to choose _now_ to be doing this? “Kenny, I _really_ don’t have time for this right n--”

“No, really,” Kenny interrupted, wiping some of the tears from his eyes, which was pointless, because there were more streaming down his face in a matter of seconds. “I-I saw that you were having relationship problems, and I took-- took advantage of you b-because you were vulnerable, and I _ruined_ your life, and _then_ I almost-- got you killed-- and n-now my parents are gonna kill _me,_ and I’m _so-- sorry--”_

Taken aback by Kenny’s sudden, unexpected, and rather sincere-sounding apology, Craig was at a loss for words. _What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to forgive him? Tell him that it wasn’t all his fault?_ After all, it _wasn’t._ This whole thing; it was just as much Craig’s own fault as it was Kenny’s. But he didn’t want to lead Kenny to believe that an apology was unwarranted; because he _definitely_ still owed him one. So instead of forgiving him or sharing the blame, Craig decided not to acknowledge Kenny’s apology for the time being, and focus on getting him to calm down, at least somewhat. But the question was _how_ exactly he was going to accomplish that.

He looked over at Kenny again, who was still sitting on the floor hugging his knees and mumbling half-incoherently, mostly to himself. “My dad already-- h-hit me again-- last time-- when he finds out what I did to his truck he's gonna--” He cut himself off mid-sentence to sob some more.

Craig frowned again, entirely clueless as to how to react to what Kenny was telling him. And he also couldn’t help but notice that Kenny’s breathing was becoming more and more erratic as he continued to sob uncontrollably. And not only was it impossible to talk to him in the state that he was currently in, but Craig also knew from experience with Tweek’s panic attacks that it could potentially be dangerous if Kenny allowed himself to get too worked up.

Craig sighed. _“...Ken._ I _need_ you to _calm down,_ okay?” He spoke slowly and calmly, making another attempt to get the other male under control. “I can hardly understand what the fuck you’re saying. You gotta _breathe._ You can keep crying all you want; _that's_ fine. But you're gonna fucking pass out if you keep breathing like that, and that's not something that I wanna deal with right now... _._ Not that I really wanna be dealing with _any_ part of this situation.”  

Kenny sniffled, covering his face with his hands. “I’m-- sorry--”

 _“Stop apologizing and breathe,”_ Craig snapped, rolling his eyes before kneeling down in front of Kenny on the floor again. He moved Kenny’s hands away from his face and held them. _“Look at me,”_ He said firmly.

“No--!” Kenny replied stubbornly, shaking his head, eyes glued to the floor as he attempted to free his arms from Craig’s grasp. But Craig didn't let go of him. “This is so fucking-- embarrassing--”  

“Dammit, Kenny, why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?!” Craig yelled in frustration. When had he become Kenny’s fucking _babysitter?_ “I’m trying to help you! Now look at me, or I’m kicking you out of my house!”

Kenny complied then, slowly lifting his head up to meet Craig’s gaze. His face was red and soaked with tears, and his hands were shaking.

 _"Good._ Now take a deep breath, okay?” Craig spoke again, lowering his voice significantly. This situation reminded him _so_ much of when he used to have to calm Tweek down, back when he would have panic attacks all the time. Except he _never_ would have used such a harsh tone with Tweek. And this wasn’t really what you would call a panic attack; more like your standard all-out drunken emotional breakdown.

Miraculously, Kenny did as he was told. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, which eventually helped him to stop shaking. And it was silent then, except for the occasional cough or sniffle from Kenny. Craig then realized that he was still holding Kenny’s hands, which were now resting in his lap, and he gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze. This caused Kenny to open his eyes.

“...Do you hate me?” He blurted out quietly, his voice much more steady now, though he was still crying. “I know you’ve said that you do at least a million times, but… d-did you mean it?”  

Craig sighed again then, letting go of Kenny’s hands and moving to sit against the wall on the opposite side of the room. “I thought your _goal_ was to make me hate you,” He chuckled quietly.

“So that’s a yes, then?” Kenny asked apprehensively.

Craig hesitated for a moment before responding. “...I don’t hate you any more than I hate my _self,”_ He replied honestly. “I mean yeah, you’re a fucking pain in the ass, and sometimes you kinda make me wanna walk into oncoming traffic, but… _you did have a point last night,”_ He admitted. “I’m really no better than you are. And as much as I would _love_ to be able to blame _you_ alone for everything that’s happened over the past few months… I can't. Because we’re both at fault. In fact, all we fucking _do_ is enable eachother’s _shitty_ behavior.”

Kenny chuckled weakly at that, looking down at the ground again.

“...There _is_ one thing I would like to know, though,” Craig spoke up again.

“What?” Kenny said tiredly, not looking up.

“... _Why?”_ Craig asked him.

 _The very same question Tweek had asked_ _him._

“I mean… why _me,_ I guess, is what I'm asking.”

Craig figured that if Kenny was only ever this open and honest when he was drunk, now was the time to try and get some answers out of him. And if Ruby came home, then so be it. He would just tell her to go up to her room and pretend that she hadn’t seen anything.

Kenny looked up at him again, a ghost of a smile on his face, despite the tears still rolling down his cheeks. “You’re gonna hate me even more if I tell you,” He replied.

Craig simply crossed his arms and raised a brow at the blonde, prompting him to continue.

“...You were the first person to ever challenge me,” Kenny said simply, tears beginning to slow down. “...You never _needed_ me,” He continued. “The way you so blatantly told me to fuck off right from the start, and the way you always put up a fight every time I tried to mess with you... I'm not _used_ to that. And it got me really _interested_ in you. And I saw it as a challenge... I wanted to _make you_ need me. Like, Tweek was just an obstacle that I had to get past. And the fact that you were, y’know, _‘off limits’_ made it even more satisfying when I got you to give in,” He explained further, now back to avoiding eye contact with Craig, who didn’t even know how to _begin_ to react to what Kenny was telling him. “...It’s fucked up, I know. But sometimes I guess I just forget that these are _real_ people whose lives and feelings I’m playing around with… Sometimes I forget that _I’m_ real.” He paused, taking a moment to breathe some more. He was beginning to get worked up again. “But then… shit like what happened last night happens. And I _remember._ And suddenly it’s not a game anymore, and everything hits me at once and I realize what an _awful_ person I’ve become. And I feel so _guilty_ and _disgusting_ and I _fucking hate myself so much._ I _really_ do,” He said, tears forming in his eyes again. “...I wasn’t always _like this._ And I don't know how it happened but I don’t _wanna_ be like this anymore, Craig. I’m just… _I’m so fucking sick of being me.”_

And then he was sobbing again. And listening to Kenny talk about himself this way, it was extremely difficult for Craig to not feel bad for him. It was even _more_ difficult to not just _lie_ and say that he forgave him, even if he never really would. He had known from the beginning that Kenny had some, well… _issues, to put it lightly._ But hearing him admit it out loud, and talk about how much he resented himself for the way that he acted, was a _whole_ different story. How was he supposed to react to witnessing someone who had caused him _so much pain_ breaking down and falling victim to their _own_ pain right in front of him? It was _painfully_ ironic, and unlike any situation Craig had ever been in before.  

Because while he felt bad for Kenny, on the other hand, he was angry. He was angry that Kenny had seen him as nothing more than an object; _a toy. A source of entertainment._ He was angry that Kenny had treated his life like a game. And he was also angry because to some degree, his whole ‘plan’ had _worked._ Craig wouldn’t necessarily say that he _needed_ Kenny, but he had definitely developed… a dependency, of sorts. He had become dependent on the idea that Kenny would always be there when he was in need of a distraction. Kenny had become his go-to escape from the fucked up reality of his life, which Kenny _himself_ had played a large role in creating in the first place. But he had known from the beginning that Kenny never had _good_ intentions. So could he _really_ be angry?

“...And y’know what the most ironic part of it all is?” Kenny spoke again, and Craig still said nothing; just looked at him, and waited for him to continue. “This whole time, I was so determined to make _you_ need _me._ And I thought I knew what I was doing. I really did. But somehow, in the end, all I _really_ did was fuck _myself_ over, because I--” He stopped, breaking out into another fit of sobs.

“You what?” Craig urged.

“...Ineedyou.”

“What?” Craig said again. He’d heard Kenny clearly enough to understand what he had said, but he was having a rather difficult time processing it.

Kenny closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I need you, Craig,” He confessed. And the look on his face after he finished speaking said it all; he’d _never_ said that to _anyone_ before. He looked extremely embarrassed…and _scared._

Craig blinked once, twice, three times; in slow realization. _That must have been what Kenny had almost blurted out the night before._

“You’re all I-- have--” Kenny spoke again when Craig remained silent. Everything that Kenny had kept hidden from him for so long was slowly being revealed now; being brought out into the open where he couldn’t ever take it back. “My friends all left me because I’m too much to handle-- my _parents_ probably wouldn’t even care if I fucking-- _died--”_ He paused to sniffle a few times. “...I feel like… you’re the only person who can keep me grounded, I guess. I don’t know,” He added quietly, and Craig couldn’t help but scoff at that.

“Dude, I don’t know what your definition of the word ‘grounded’ is, but I can assure you that you are _far_ from it, regardless of whether I’m around or not,” He replied.

Kenny sniffled again. “Y-yeah but, when I get too crazy and, y’know… _mean,_ you’re always there to call me out on it.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and everytime I do, you fucking _flip_ out on me for it.”

Kenny looked down again then, breaking eye contact with Craig. “...I know. And I’m sorry,” He mumbled ashamedly. “I just, I get so _angry_ sometimes, and I don’t really know why, and... it’s like I can’t _control_ it and--”

“I understand why,” Craig blurted out quietly, regretting it immediately.  

“Huh?” Kenny looked back up at him, confused and caught off-guard by his sudden subtle display of empathy.

Craig sighed apprehensively, trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say next in a way that wouldn’t make Kenny believe that his actions were in any way _justified._ “I’m not saying it’s okay to be a dick and take it out on people who don’t deserve it, but,” He tried to make his voice sound more passive; like he didn’t _really_ care that much. But oh, he did. Way too much, really. “...I get why you’re angry, I guess. I probably would be too if I were you.”

Kenny’s eyes widened, as if nobody had ever said anything like this to him before; never showed any kind of concern for him, or understanding of anything that he went through. And Craig could swear up and down that he hated Kenny all he wanted, but that wouldn't change the fact that this was just… _sad._

 “...Please don’t leave me,” Kenny choked out then. “Everybody always leaves me.”

Craig briefly recalled what Bebe had told him earlier: _stand your ground._ But like always in situations involving Kenny, what Craig was feeling in that moment completely overpowered his ability to think logically and rationally. And he was already pretty much doing the _exact opposite_ of standing his ground; sitting on his bathroom floor. So he silently moved closer to Kenny, now sitting _next_ to him on his bathroom floor.  

Kenny shot him a cautious, questioning look before silently scooting a little closer to him, and Craig looked down at him, an expression on his face that said, _“if you ever speak of this again, I won't hesitate to fucking kill you”._ And Kenny smiled very weakly before leaning against his shoulder, Craig then awkwardly wrapping one of his arms around the other male and holding him as he resumed crying again, burying his face in his knees again.

 _He used to hold Tweek like this, on his bad nights._    

They sat like that for quite a while, and Craig couldn’t help but think that this was probably the most awkward he had ever felt in his life, as he watched Kenny shake and cry. “Y’know, this is kinda pathetic, McCormick,” Craig remarked half-jokingly, after several minutes of uncomfortable silence on his end. “Honestly.”

Kenny looked up again, wiping his tears away and then wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “I know,” He replied, moving his head to rest on Craig’s shoulder. “But so are you, so it’s okay.”

Craig scoffed. “Wow. Even as you’re drunkenly sobbing on my bathroom floor and begging me not to leave you, somehow you _still_ manage to find a way to take cheap shots at _me.”_

Kenny met Craig’s gaze then, managing a smile, head still resting on his shoulder. “Yup,” He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

“You’re lucky I’m not as sensitive as you are, ‘cause then we’d have a problem,” Craig said.

“Oh, is that right?” Kenny chuckled. “I hate to break it to ya, but we’ve already got _tons_ of problems, Tucker.”

“No, _you’ve_ got tons of problems,” Craig protested.

Kenny scoffed. “Okay, mister superiority complex. At least _I’ve_ never cheated on anyone.”

“Yeah, because you have to be in a committed relationship in order to do that.”

“Oh, yeah, because you were _so_ committed.”

“God, you really never run out of smartass comebacks, do you?” Craig said with a small laugh. It was then that he noticed he’d been absentmindedly rubbing circles into Kenny’s arm. He decided not to stop; it seemed to be helping with calming him down a bit.

Kenny smirked. “Is that just another way of saying that I win?”

“See, there you go again.”

Kenny chuckled quietly again. If there was one thing they were both good at, is was lightening the mood of a tense or awkward situation with their pointless bantering. Sometimes they did it just to pass time.

It was quiet for a few moments then as Kenny looked up at Craig silently. Kenny looked sad, but a different kind of sad than what Craig had just witnessed. Like the slightly panicked kind of sad when you’ve just been given bad news, or you’ve just realized something that maybe you would’ve rather gone without knowing. But Craig didn’t have time to continue analyzing the other male’s expression, because then he spoke again.  

“...Y’know, you really do have nice eyes,” Kenny pointed out for the second time, his expression now more collected and nonchalant.

Craig raised an eyebrow at him. “God, you really _are_ drunk,” He replied.

Kenny shrugged. “I wasn’t drunk the first time I said it,” He offered Craig another small smile. “...And y’know what else? I was lying that time I said I could take it or leave it. You’re _reeeeeally_ pretty,” He giggled, reaching up to awkwardly place a hand on Craig’s cheek. “...I miss kissing you,” He murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Craig’s eyes widened slightly. “Okay, I’m gonna go ahead and stop you there, because you’re saying things that you’re _definitely_ gonna regret tomorrow… that is, if you remember _any_ of this,” He said awkwardly, moving Kenny’s hand away from his face. He had a feeling that if he didn’t shut Kenny up, he would continue confessing things that Craig was probably better off _not_ knowing. And that was the last thing that _either_ of them needed at this point. Their relationship was already _more_ than enough complicated.  “...Your breath _reeks,_ by the way,” Craig added, and Kenny laughed inwardly. “...So I guess you expect me to let you stay here tonight, right?” He spoke again.

Kenny broke eye contact yet again, looking down at his feet. “...I really don’t wanna be alone,” He mumbled.

Right as Kenny finished speaking, Craig heard the sound of the front door of the house opening and then closing, which could only mean that Ruby was home. _Ah, shit._

“Fine, just, go lay down in my room, okay?” Craig said quickly, moving his hand away from Kenny’s arm to rub his back for a moment, before moving it away from him entirely. “I’ll be up there in a minute.”

_Well, so much for standing his ground._

“Thank you,” Kenny said to him, genuinely.

“...Yeah, whatever,” Craig nodded passively.  

_God, Bebe would never let him hear the end of this._

Kenny stood up slowly, then stumbled a bit and grabbed ahold of the countertop for support.

“You good?” Craig asked him.

“Yeah,” Kenny replied. “Just a little dizzy.”

“...You want me to walk you up there?”

“No, I’m fine,” Kenny insisted.

Craig shrugged. “Alright, well, I think Ruby is home, if you see her on your way up there can you tell her to come here?”

“Yeah,” Kenny nodded.

Eventually he made it out of the room, and Craig remained seated on the floor, once again contemplating how exactly he kept ending up in situations like this. He was _dreading_ having to tell Bebe that he had directly gone against pretty much everything she had told him to do. But right _now,_ he had to worry about making sure Ruby didn’t tell their parents about Kenny being in the house.

Ever since Craig had come out, his dad had implemented a strict rule that prohibited him from having boys in his bedroom without asking permission first, and not without ‘supervision’ (which meant that he had to keep his door open, so that his dad could walk past every so often and pretend to _not_ be checking up on him, to make sure he wasn’t doing anything gay), even if the boy in question was nothing more than a friend, and never _would_ be. Even _Clyde_ was no exception to this rule. And it had taken _months_ for him to become so lenient about allowing Tweek to come over, or even Clyde, without Craig having to ask permission each individual time. His door had never had a lock on it, but if it had, surely that would've been a lost privilege as well.

Now, like most teenagers, Craig only had to worry about following the rules when his family members were _home._ So normally, it wasn’t ever really a problem. He just had his friends, and his (now ex) boyfriend over when his family was _out._ But this time, that wasn’t an option. He had gotten lucky the first time he allowed Kenny to stay at his house; he’d managed to get him out of the house early the next morning, before his parents even woke up. And no one ever found out. But this time it was considerably more risky, since he and his parents weren’t exactly on the _best_ terms, because of the whole school situation. That and the fact that Ruby was now already aware that Kenny was in the house.

And speaking of Ruby, a few moments after Kenny left the bathroom, she appeared in the doorway.

“Why are you on the floor?” She asked immediately, before Craig even had a chance to say anything. “And why is Kenny McCormick here? I just saw him go upstairs.”

Craig sighed in annoyance. “Yeah. Listen. I’ll do your chores for a week if you stop asking me questions and you _don’t_ tell mom and dad that he’s here when they get home. Deal?”

Ruby took a moment to think before replying. “Hmmm… okay. Deal,” She agreed. “But you still have to do it even if they find out on their own!”

“Fine, whatever,” Craig waved his hand at her dismissively. “Just keep your mouth shut.”

“I will,” She replied with a mischievous grin.

“Good,” Craig nodded, not _entirely_ sure that he believed her. “...Now go, like, do your homework or something.”

Ruby responded to that by sticking her tongue out at him, and Craig flipped her off before she walked away; which was all that the majority or their interactions normally consisted of. They didn’t _hate_ eachother, but they weren’t exactly what you would call _close_ either. And that was just how it had always been.

When Craig finally decided to go up to his room, he picked Kenny’s orange parka up from the floor and then sprayed some air freshener in the bathroom before making his way upstairs. And when he entered his bedroom, he found Kenny passed out in his bed; right in the middle of it, so that there was absolutely no room for him. _Wonderful._

He sighed, hanging Kenny’s jacket on the doorknob and removing his own as well, which he'd still been wearing from when he had attempted to leave his house to confront Kenny. He kicked off his shoes, and then he walked over to his closet, opening it and grabbing a spare pillow and blanket, then tossing them onto the floor for him to use later. And he couldn’t help but think back to the last time he’d had to sleep on the floor; it was before he and Tweek had started dating. Craig would stay over at his house a lot, but the idea of sleeping in the same bed together freaked Tweek out. And Craig, at that point being completely oblivious to the fact that it was because Tweek had feelings for him, always agreed to sleep on the floor.

Coincidentally, their first time ended up being in Tweek’s bed too; about six months after they started dating. It had been so sweet and romantic, and Craig found himself smiling at the memory... until he realized that it was no longer reality. He compared it to all of the times he had been with Kenny; all the things he did with him that he would never want Tweek to even _know_ that he wanted. And then he just felt _dirty._ And _guilty._ And he looked over at Kenny laying in his bed and he felt _angry._ With Kenny _and_ with himself. How had he allowed things to go this far?

Well, he knew _how._ He knew _exactly_ how. He was _painfully_ aware of the fact that he _still_ hadn’t learned to say _no_ to Kenny. Not without just giving in again the next time he came around. Craig had never been such a fucking _pushover_ until Kenny came along. He let Kenny walk all over him. And maybe he deserved it. No, he _definitely_ deserved it. What he _didn’t_ deserve was to be happy after what he had done to Tweek.

His relationship with Tweek had been so… _innocent._ Their love had been so _pure_ and _safe..._ well, it had been in the beginning, anyway. And reflecting on the circumstances of his life now, and his relationship with Kenny… well, it made Craig realize even more that he would give anything to go back to that. What he _used_ to have. What he had once deemed to be _not enough_ for him. And he wondered if he would ever find love like what he had with Tweek ever again.

...Probably not.

But maybe that was a good thing. _He would probably just fuck it up._

Though it was difficult, Craig managed to pull himself back out of his thoughts eventually. He spent the next hour or so sitting on his bedroom floor, trying to keep himself distracted by messing around on his phone, and also making sure to check on Kenny every once in awhile, to make sure he hadn’t, y’know, died of alcohol poisoning or anything.

Around six-thirty, he heard the front door of the house open again, and he went downstairs to greet his mother so she wouldn’t try to come in his room. He decided to lie and casually bring up that he wasn’t feeling well, in hopes that it would make both of his parents leave him alone, at least for the rest of the night. And it worked. His mom asked him if he wanted some medicine, he said no, she asked him what she should make for dinner tomorrow on her day off, he said he didn’t care. She asked him when he was planning on going back to school, he said he didn’t wanna talk about it. And then his mom said she would tell his dad to leave him alone when he got home so he could get some rest, and then he went back upstairs.

It was still pretty early, but God knows Craig was always tired enough to sleep for about a week straight, lately. So he walked over to the spot where he had put his pillow and blanket, and laid down. His floor was rather uncomfortable, despite being carpeted, and Craig knew that it was unlikely that he would be getting any sleep. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling annoyed and taken advantage of. And _stuck._ Not that those feelings were at all new to him.

“G’night, Kenny,” He mumbled before closing his eyes, even though he knew that the other male was already asleep.

 

* * *

 

“Kenny, you _have_ to get up,” Craig said for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

But it was no use. Kenny was in even worse shape than he had been in the night before. Every single one of Craig’s attempts to get him out of the house, or even just out of his _bed,_ were unsuccessful. Not that Craig hadn’t expected that that would be the case. He knew that the aftermath of a mental breakdown mixed with an awful hangover definitely wouldn’t make Kenny any _easier_ to deal with. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“I can’t, Craig,” Came Kenny’s response as he stared at the wall with a blank, disconnected expression on his face. The state that Kenny was in was unlike anything Craig had ever seen before. Kenny had been _entirely_ silent, all day long, which was just _unheard of._ His eyes looked tired and lifeless, despite the fact that he had been sleeping for hours on end. In fact, if Craig hadn’t been so concerned with trying to get him out of the house before his parents found out that he was there, he might have forgotten that Kenny was there at all.

 _“Yes,_ you can, Kenny,” Craig argued back. “I _can’t_ let you stay here again tonight and risk my parents finding out. They already don’t trust me at all anymore as it is. If my dad finds out I had a guy that he didn’t approve first spend the night, _and_ tried to keep it from him, he’s gonna _flip.”_

“Where am I supposed to go?” Kenny mumbled, still not making eye contact with Craig.

 _“Home!”_ Craig replied frustratedly. “I can’t sit here and take care of you all day!”

“I don’t wanna go back there, Craig,” Kenny said, not raising his voice at all. Normally it was almost impossible _not_ to get a rise out of him. But today, it seemed as though he just… _didn’t have the energy to fight back._  “I’m not asking you to take care of me, I just… I don’t know if my parents are home, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to _handle_ it if they are. I just _really_ can’t deal with that right now.”

Craig let out an agitated sigh and reached up to rub his temples. “...Kenny, look,” He said, kneeling down next to the bed. And even though Craig was directly in front of him, Kenny still didn’t look him in the eyes. “I understand why you don’t wanna go home. I get it. I really do. And if I could do anything about the situation, I would. But I can’t. So you _gotta_ find somewhere else to stay. Because you staying here isn’t an option right now.”

Kenny looked at him finally then, and was about to speak again, but their conversation was cut short by Craig’s mother yelling from downstairs.

“Dinner’s ready!”

_Fuck, was it really that late already?_

Craig groaned. “This discussion isn’t over,” He said before standing up again and leaving the room, making sure to close the door on his way out.

When he arrived downstairs and sat down at the dining room table next to Ruby, his mother put a plate of undercooked spaghetti in front of him, and he looked down at it and grimaced before picking up his fork. Craig’s mom had never been a great cook, or even a halfway decent one, really, but hey; he had to eat _something._ But before he could take a bite, he noticed that his father wasn’t at the table yet, and that made him start to panic a little bit. His father had always had a tendency to snoop around in his room when he wasn’t in it. And the fact that Craig hadn’t come out of his room _once_ all day until dinner time probably had him a bit suspicious.

Craig cleared his throat nervously. “Where’s dad?” He asked his mom, who was now seated at the table as well.

“I think he's still upstairs, why?”

“Just wondering,” Craig replied casually, twirling his spaghetti around with his fork. Meanwhile, his heart was pounding with anxiety.

His dad came downstairs within the next few minutes, and when he didn't say anything, Craig thought he was in the clear. But then, about five minutes into dinner, he spoke up.

“So uh, Craig,” He started, and Craig’s head shot up.

“Yeah?” He replied, trying his best to remain calm.

“...Is that the McCormicks’ boy up in your room?”

 _Well, fuck._  

Craig’s eyes widened, and he looked over at Ruby, who then shrugged.

“I didn't tell him,” She said defensively.

“You knew about this?” Their father snapped, and Ruby pressed her lips together and silently turned her attention back to her food. “What's he doing here?” Mr. Tucker spoke again, looking back over at Craig.

Craig sighed. “Look, he just needed a place to stay, alright? We didn't… _do_ anything. We didn't even sleep in the bed together. I slept on the floor.”

“Are you two… _together?”_

Craig shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Um... not really, I mean, we hang out but we’re not, like… _dating_ or anything…” He trailed off. He could sense his father’s discomfort with discussing the subject of Craig’s love life, which just made _him_ even _more_ uncomfortable. Craig wished that he could just be _open_ and _honest_ with him. But he knew that that would probably never be something that he could do.

“What happened to the other one?” His father asked then, and Craig’s heart once again sped up with anxiety. He _really_ didn’t want to have this conversation. And luckily, his mother stepped in.

 _“Thomas,”_ She said harshly, glaring at her husband from across the dinner table, who then cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at his plate.

“...I don’t want that McCormick boy here,” He spoke up again, after several moments of uncomfortable silence. “That family is nothing but trouble. You need to go tell him to go home.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to do all day,” Craig replied annoyedly. “It’s… a _complicated_ situation.”

“I don’t care, go tell him again!” Craig’s father replied stubbornly, raising his voice.

 _“Right_ _now?”_

_“Yes!”_

_“Dad he’s not gonna listen to m---”_

_“Go!”_

_“Oh my god, fine!”_ Craig shouted, standing up and pushing his chair in angrily.

“And you're _going_ to school tomorrow,” His father added assertively.

Craig rolled his eyes. “Try and make me,” He muttered under his breath, walking away from the table and towards the staircase.

Craig’s father stood up from his chair. “Hey, don’t you take that tone with _me,_ you little faggot!” He yelled.

 _"Thomas!”_ Craig’s mother snapped again.

Craig stopped walking, his hands balling up into fists. His father’s words hung in the air, creating an unbearably tense atmosphere. Craig closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning back around to face him again. _“...What did you just call me?”_

His dad just looked at him, expression unreadable. “...Nothing,” He muttered apologetically, sitting back down.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Craig said, glaring at him for another moment before turning around again and stomping upstairs. When he reached his bedroom, he swung the door open forcefully and slammed it shut. He looked over at his bed. Kenny was asleep again. But he wouldn’t be for long. _“Kenny,”_ Craig snapped, kicking the bed frame. _“Wake up.”_

Kenny’s eyes shot open. “Wha--”

“You need to get out, _now,”_ Craig spat angrily and frantically. “My dad knows you’re here, and he’s pissed, and you _have_ to fucking go home!” Craig reached over and tore off the blanket that Kenny had been using, then grabbed ahold of one of Kenny’s arms and attempted to pull him out of the bed. “Get _up!”_

And as usual, Kenny stubbornly fought him. “No!” He yelled back as Craig continued yanking on his arm. Eventually though, Kenny won, and he flew backwards, his head slamming against the headboard with a loud thud.

“God fucking dammit, Kenny!” Craig shouted. “Why are you doing this to me?!”

There was a long silence then, and Craig took a moment to calm down and breathe. He knew that yelling at Kenny never fucking got him _anywhere,_ but it was so hard not to. He tried to think of a gentler approach that he could use; one that might actually be effective.

But it was too late. Kenny was already crying again. He stared up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face. “...Craig,” He said, not making eye contact. _“Please. Please_ don’t make me go home.”

Craig sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “I don’t have a _choice,_ Ken!” He furrowed his brows. _When had he started calling him that?_

“Craig, I’m _begging you,”_ Kenny spoke again. “I can’t deal with my parents right now, and I _really_ don’t wanna be all alone either,” He paused, looking over at Craig again. “...I’m _scared.”_

Craig couldn’t ignore the absolute _desperation_ and _panic_ in the other male’s voice, and his expression. He didn’t know what else to do. Kenny wasn’t gonna budge, no matter what he tried. “...Y’know what? _Fine,”_ He threw his arms up defeatedly. “You can deal with my dad, then.”

Craig then reached for his jacket, which was hanging on the doorknob of his closet, and put it on. _He had one option left._

“Where are you going?” Kenny asked, watching as he slipped his shoes on.

“I’ll be back,” Craig replied. “Don’t fucking do anything stupid. And if my dad comes in here and makes you leave, you’re outta luck,” He said before leaving the room, again shutting the door behind him.

Craig walked down to the other end of the hall, making sure that he was far enough away from his room so that Kenny couldn’t hear him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing Bebe’s number and putting it up to his ear. It rang four times before she answered.

"What’s up?”

“Hey,” Craig spoke into the phone. “So… I fucked up. And I need your help.”

“God, what’d you do now?” Bebe replied disapprovingly.

Craig avoided answering her question for the time being. “...Can I meet you somewhere?” He asked. “It would probably be better for us to talk in person. I need to get the fuck out of my house for a little while anyway or I’m gonna lose it.”  

Bebe sighed. “My place. Twenty minutes.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ! I feel like all of my auhtor's notes lately have been "sorry this chapter took so long" but... sorry these chapters keep taking so long, haha. I've been feeling kinda shitty lately and it's been hard for me to get motivated to write. But I promise I don't plan on abandoning this fic. 
> 
> On another note, thanks for over 100 kudos !! :') I honestly didn't think this fic would ever get more than like 30 haha.
> 
> Also, just a heads-up; these next couple chapters (not so much this one, but I'm putting a warning here just in case, because of one small part towards the end) might be triggering to some people. I'll probably put a more specific warning in the author's note of the next chapter, because this one really isn't bad, but I just wanted to let y'all know.

Craig couldn’t help but look back on how much his life had changed since the last time he had been to Bebe’s house— how different the circumstances had been the last time he sat on the swingset in her backyard; the dreaded party where he had kissed Kenny for the first time, and set off a chain reaction of events that now had him trapped in a vicious cycle with Kenny that he couldn’t escape. And that very same swingset was where he and Bebe both sat now, as Craig finished rattling off all the details of the events that had taken place over the past twenty-four hours, while Bebe listened quietly and patiently.

“...So yeah. Last night was a fucking shitshow, and now he’s refusing to leave my house, and my dad is really pissed and wants him out ASAP, but he won’t listen to me.” Craig finally finished his recount of the previous night. “And I also don’t know if Kenny remembers _any_ of what he said to me last night. The only time he talked to me today was to argue with me when I told him he needed to get out.”  

Bebe shook her head disapprovingly at him. “You can’t keep doing this with him, Craig,” She spoke. “Every time you let him take advantage of you, it just guarantees that it won’t be the last time it happens.”

Craig sighed as he stared down at his feet, dragging them on the icy ground beneath him. “Yeah, I know,” He uttered a response to Bebe. “I just… it’s hard, y’know? I mean, What was I supposed to do? Throw him out on the street?”

“Well, there’s really only one reason that it would be hard for you to do that, after everything he’s put you through,” Bebe started again, knowingly, and Craig looked up at her. “...You care about him.”

Craig broke eye contact again. Bebe wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true, but Craig couldn’t help but wonder why everyone insisted on being so brutally and unmercifully honest with him these days.

There was a long silence before Craig decided to stop being stubborn and admit the truth. “...Yeah. I do, okay?” He mumbled, still looking down at the ground. “But how can I not? I mean, yeah, I hate that he decides to take all of his personal problems out on me, but… I just feel _bad_ for him. Is that really so unreasonable?” He looked back up at Bebe, hoping for some kind of reassurance or validation.  

Bebe shrugged, offering him a small, sympathetic grin. “No. It’s not at all,” She replied. “I get that. But you can care about him without letting him walk all over you. He needs to understand that _his_ problems aren’t _your_ problems by default. You’re not obligated to help him just because he comes to you.”

“I know, I know,” Craig said passively. “I’m just really worried that, y’know… something is gonna _happen_ to him. And it’s gonna be my fault because I turned him away.” He paused. He and Bebe both knew exactly what he had meant by that. “I feel like I’ve been saying this since the beginning, but I _really_ just _don’t_ know what to do about him anymore. And it’s not like _you_ can say that you don’t ever make his problems your problems either,” Craig pointed out. “It wasn’t _your_ obligation to drive all the way out to North Park in the middle of the night and then drive him back here when he crashed his parents’ truck, but you did that anyway. _And_ it’s not your responsibility to watch Karen, either, but she’s here. Is that not the _exact_ same thing as what I did?”

Bebe raised her eyebrows at him amusedly and grinned, like she was proud of him for being so observant. “...You got a lighter?” She asked him before reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, not responding to his accusations for the time being.  

“Uh… yeah, I think so,” Craig mumbled in response, digging around in his pockets. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Bebe shrugged again. “It’s a habit I picked up when I started hanging out with Kenny and it stuck, I guess,” She explained, as Craig finally fished a lighter out of his pocket. “You want one?”

Craig couldn’t help but think it was kind of funny— she’d never needed such a heavy stress reliever before Kenny came along.

When Craig passed Bebe his lighter, the sleeve of his jacket moved a bit and he caught sight of one of the many barely-still-there marks left behind from Kenny; this one in particular on his wrist. He couldn't really tell if it was a hickey or just a bruise from one of the days that Kenny had been especially rough with him. If it _was_ a hickey, it was a rather odd place for one, really. But somehow it had happened. “Nah, I’m good,” Craig shook his head in response to Bebe’s question and pulled his sleeve back down over his wrist, trying his best to force himself to remain focused. “Thanks, though.”

It was memories like that that needed to be left in the past. But it was so difficult to do so when the reminders of those moments with Kenny still littered his body; _haunting him,_ in a way. Craig knew that no one else could drive him crazy—metaphorically _and_ literally— the way Kenny could. And no matter how fucked up their relationship had been up to this point, and how wrong it would be for them to continue it, it didn’t change the fact that the way Kenny’s lips felt against his skin always felt so _right._ But there was still hope in the fact that eventually, if Craig could bring himself to allow them to, every mark that served as a reminder of Kenny would fade.

Craig watched then as Bebe lit a cigarette and took a quick drag from it before speaking again. “...But anyway. There’s one difference between what _I_ did and what _you_ did,” She started again.  “See, I did those things because I _wanted_ to help him; not because I felt like I had to, or because he manipulated me into agreeing to them. He _asked_ me for help, and I said yes. He knows that I’m doing him a _favor,_ and not something that I _owe_ to him.”

Craig couldn’t help but scoff. “Well, it’s nice that he has respect for you and all, but, I don’t think things are ever gonna work like that between us,” He said, and Bebe just sighed. Probably because she knew that Craig was right. “...I just don’t get it. He hooks up with random people all the time. Why does he decide to have a goddamn psychotic break the minute _I_ come along?”

Bebe took another drag from her cigarette before replying, exhaling smoke into the cold, dry air. “Believe me, you’re not the first person to go through something like this with him. And you won’t be the last. How do you think I know my way around this situation so well?” She said, and Craig just shrugged. “...You’re right, though. It _is_ different with you,” She added. _“You’re_ different. Like you said before, he doesn’t want you to leave him. And I think he thinks that if he doesn’t make you feel like there’s a reason you _have_ to stay, then you’ll leave. You _know_ he was doing it on purpose at first, with the sex and the blackmailing— but now it might not even be intentional anymore.”

Craig sighed. “I don’t get what’s so different about me,” He replied with a small, sad chuckle. “I mean it’s not like he sees something in me because I’m a _good person_ or anything like that. Like, he _does_ remember that this all started with me betraying my boyfriend of two years _pretty much_ just because I was bored, right?” He added. It wasn’t that simple by any means, but there was no point in trying to explain the situation in a way that didn’t make him look as bad; because he _was_ that bad.

Bebe rolled her eyes and let out a quiet, awkward laugh before replying. “...I don’t know what it is about you either. But I’ve never seen him so… _invested_ in someone before.” She paused, bringing her cigarette up to her lips again and inhaling. “Can I ask you a question that you probably won’t love?” She asked after exhaling.

Craig just nodded apprehensively.

“You _… have_ caught on by now that he has feelings for you, right?” Bebe asked him, and Craig’s eyes went wide. He was glad that he had declined when Bebe had offered him a cigarette earlier, because he surely would’ve choked on the smoke and died upon hearing those words leave her mouth if he had been smoking at that moment.  

“...What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly.

“Craig, come on. I know you’re not _that_ clueless,” Bebe replied half-jokingly with a small grin. “...I don’t think he’s fully realized it yet— he’s good at reading others, but not so much himself. It’s gonna fuck him up big time when he does, though.”

“Jesus Christ,” Craig muttered under his breath, as he slowly began to catch on to what Bebe was implying.

Craig couldn't say that he hadn’t suspected at least a _little_ bit that that might have been the case; with the sudden ‘no kissing on the lips’ rule, the comments about his eyes and how much Kenny missed kissing him— _the ‘I need you’ confession._ Craig had never been remarkably good at reading people; especially people who kept their deeper emotions so carefully guarded and locked away, like Kenny McCormick. Hell, he had even been completely oblivious to the fact that _Tweek_ had had feelings for him. And Tweek was one of the most easily-read people he had ever met, though that was partially due to the fact that he had known him and been rather close to him for the majority of his life.

But with Kenny, it was different. When _Kenny_ acted differently than usual, even when Craig had barely known him, he couldn’t help but notice it. Because while Tweek was quiet and subtle and often opted to remain in the background or off on the sidelines whenever possible, as Craig sometimes did as well, _Kenny_ on the other hand, was the kind of person who had such a strong, seemingly _unbreakable_ presence, which _demanded_ to be noticed— he was _a force to be reckoned with._ And when people like that are off their game, even for just a moment, it rarely goes unnoticed or overlooked by anyone. Not even Craig, who was what most people would describe as _‘oblivious’_ a large percentage of the time.

It was an undeniable fact that Kenny definitely wasn’t the same as he had been at the time of their first encounter. At least not towards Craig, anyway. But although Kenny had changed _him_ in more ways than one as well, he couldn’t say that he had the same feelings for Kenny that Bebe was suggesting that the other male had for _him._ He _did_ have _some_ kind of feelings for Kenny; feelings that weren’t rooted in hatred, and went deeper than lust. Feelings that he couldn’t exactly comprehend or place a name or label on. He cared about Kenny’s safety and well-being. He wanted Kenny to be _happy,_ despite the fact that their entire relationship was built on Kenny’s obnoxiously persistent efforts to make his life a living hell. But at the same time, Craig would be lying if he said that Kenny was someone that he wanted to keep in his life. Because he couldn’t deny that Kenny had become quite a burden to him.

But another indication that he genuinely cared about Kenny that Craig couldn’t ignore was the fact that treating him like a burden, or even _feeling_ like he _was_ one made him feel so unbelievably _guilty._ Because Kenny was hurting _so_ much, and there Craig was, whining to Bebe about what an inconvenience Kenny’s suffering had been to _him._ It just felt _wrong,_ regardless of how much pain Kenny had caused him. Those pesky feelings of empathy just _refused_ to leave him alone, and he was left feeling just as _stuck_ as he had in the beginning of it all— just for different reasons now.

“This is a fucking mess,” Craig spoke again, after a prolonged silence.

“You’re just now figuring that out, huh?” Bebe teased him, tossing what was left of her cigarette onto the ground and extinguishing it with the bottom of her shoe.   

Craig was about to speak again, but he was distracted by something he saw out of the corner of his eye which caught his attention. Something in one of the upstairs windows of Bebe’s house. He looked up at it to see that it was a girl, who appeared to be around his sister’s age, peeking out at them from behind the curtains. He could only assume that it must have been Karen. “Hey,” He said to Bebe, nudging her lightly. “I think Karen’s watching us.”

Bebe turned her attention towards the window as well and waved at her, smiling warmly. Craig forced a smile as well.

“Can she hear us?” Craig asked.

Bebe shrugged. “I don’t think so. The windows are closed.”

Karen smiled shyly at them before disappearing behind the curtains again, and Bebe’s expression transformed into a look of pity. “I feel so bad for her,” She uttered quietly. “I don’t know how she still manages to be so gentle and sweet with everything she goes through.”

Craig just nodded in agreement. He didn’t know Karen very well— she and his sister had been friends when they were a lot younger, but Craig never took much of an interest in his sister’s friends, or her life in general. She and Karen drifted apart as the years went on, but the few times Karen had been over to their house, Craig had always noticed how unusually quiet and polite she was. But he also noticed the way she flinched at loud noises, and the way she apologized excessively for things that simply weren’t a big deal— the way she always ate as if she might never see food again on the nights when she would stay over for dinner. When Kenny had initially told him about the situation with his parents, he hadn’t made the connection to Karen’s behavior all those years ago. But now it made sense.

She and Kenny were the perfect example of how the effects of the very same trauma could manifest in very different ways.

“Hey, how does Kenny take care of her, anyway?” Craig inquired. “He doesn’t even have a job. At least not that I know of.”  

“He used to,” Bebe answered. “When he and I were first hanging out a lot he would work nights at City Wok. I think he got fired, though, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Really?” Craig raised an eyebrow at her. “Why?”

“Pretty sure he was stealing food ‘cause he still wasn’t making enough money. And then when he stopped working, he started turning to some rather… _questionable_ methods to get cash,” Bebe explained. “...But he always finds a way.”

Craig sighed. “Do I _wanna_ know what you mean by ‘questionable methods’?”  

“Yeah, probably not,” Bebe remarked, and Craig nodded, deciding not the press any further into the subject. Though he could probably make a few educated guesses as to what she had meant.

It was getting late now— the streetlights had come on at some point during Craig and Bebe’s conversation, due to the fact that the sun had set almost entirely, and Craig was beginning to grow worried about Kenny, who he had left at his house with his blatantly homophobic and angry father while Kenny himself was wildly unstable. So he decided that now was probably a good time to start wrapping this conversation up so he could head back home.

“So uh…” Craig spoke up again. “If I swear that I’ll actually listen to you this time would you be willing to give me some advice on how to handle this situation?”  

Bebe laughed. “Of course,” She replied. “Honestly, though, if you can, I would let him stay at your place and keep an eye on him until he comes out of this depressive episode and then we’ll go from there, just to be safe,” She suggested. “There’s really no point in trying to reason with him when he gets like this anyway. But it always passes. I would offer to let him stay here in the meantime, but, I’ve already got Karen, and…” She trailed off. “...I just don’t want her to have to see him like that, y’know?”

“Hey, no problem. You’ve already done more than enough,” Craig assured her. “I’ll keep an eye on him. My dad is just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Alright,” Bebe nodded and smiled. “Keep me updated and let me know if he starts seeming a little better, okay?”

“I will,” Craig nodded back. “I should probably get going, but… thank you for the help, again. Really,” He said, standing up from the swing he had been sitting on.

“Hey. I’m always happy to help.” Bebe smiled again, and Craig returned the smile before turning to leave. “Good luck!” Bebe called after him.

And Craig knew that he needed much more than luck to get himself out of this mess, but he thanked her anyway.

 

* * *

 

When Craig returned home, he opened the door to find his father waiting for him in the livingroom, and he couldn’t help but groan in annoyance.  

“Hi, son,” His father greeted him reluctantly from the couch.  

“...Hi” He replied awkwardly, closing the front door of the house behind him as he stepped inside. There was silence then as Craig removed his jacket and tucked it under his arm. “Are you… gonna say anything else, or can I go?” Craig spoke again when his father didn’t. “‘Cause I kinda have some shit I need to take care of.”

Craig’s father sighed before speaking again. “I wanted to... _apologize_ for what I said to you earlier,” He said, and it sounded so forced, Craig couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped his mouth.

“What, did mom tell you no sex until you apologize or somethin’?” Craig scoffed. If dealing with Kenny for so long had taught him anything, it was how to come up with a snarky comeback as quickly as humanly possible. “I know you’re not really sorry. It’s fine. I know how hard it must be, coming to terms with the fact that your only son is a fag _and_ pretty much a high school dropout at this point.  A derogatory slur is bound to slip out every once in awhile.”

“Son, please,” Mr. Tucker sighed again.

“Just save it, okay?” Craig replied annoyedly. “You have no idea what kinda shit I’ve had to put up with these past few months, or even just _today._ I don’t need this right now.”

“I don’t know because you never _tell_ me anything!” Craig’s father argued back, standing up from the couch. “It's like I don't even know my own son anymore!”

Craig’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh, so now after years of not bothering to ask, you suddenly wanna know what goes on in my life?  _Now_ you’re interested.” Craig knew that telling his dad everything that had happened over the course of the last few months was an absolutely _terrible_ idea, and he wouldn’t gain anything from it, except for maybe a little more time to figure out how to get Kenny out of the house, but in that moment, he couldn’t stop himself. “Well let me tell you, dad,” He continued. “That amazing, sweet, and supportive boyfriend I had? I cheated on him. With Kenny. Solely because he’s better in bed, and I had myself convinced that I was too _bored_ with Tweek. Isn’t that great? And now Kenny and I have been skipping school to fuck around ever since then, but I’ve _also_ been avoiding school because everyone there thinks I’m the biggest jackass on the face of the earth and I can’t bring myself to go back.” Craig paused, blinking back a few tears. Explaining the whole situation out loud was yet another great reminder of what a piece of shit he was, and how chaotic and just flat-out _ridiculous_ his life had become. It was almost too difficult for him to keep speaking, but still, he took a shaky deep breath and continued. “...But _then_ , Kenny went _insane,_ and crashed his abusive parents’ pickup truck into a fire hydrant and almost killed both of us, and last night he showed up here _blackout_ drunk and broke down crying on the bathroom floor, and now he’s telling me he doesn’t wanna be alone and he won’t fucking leave, but I’m still doing everything I can to get him out, because _you_ can’t _stand_ the fact that I have a _boy_ up in my bedroom. Because God forbid you walk in on us doing something _gay,_ like making direct eye contact for too long or something, because that would just _ruin_ your whole day, now wouldn’t it?”

When Craig finished speaking, he wondered if his dad was about to ground him for the rest of his life, or if he would take pity on him. But several moments passed, and Mr. Tucker didn’t say anything. He was speechless, as Craig suspected he might be. Craig glared at him, waiting for some kind of response, but his father just stood there, silently, looking rather shocked and uncomfortable. And after about an entire minute of silence, Craig rolled his eyes.

“I’ll get Kenny out as soon as I can, okay?” He said, breaking the silence. “Can I go now? I have more important things to do than stand here and listen to your bullshit.” Craig rarely swore at or around his parents, but he figured it was warranted in this situation, and if he were to get in trouble for anything at this point, it probably wouldn’t be for something so trivial, considering everything else he had just told his father.

Craig’s father just nodded at him awkwardly, giving him permission to leave, and Craig wasted no time getting the fuck out of there. He headed upstairs and back to his bedroom, where Kenny _hopefully_ still was.

He opened the door of his room to find Kenny still in his bed— but he was sitting up now, which was some kind of progress at least. He was holding his phone and appeared to be texting someone. “Hey, look who’s finally up,” Craig remarked, putting on a facade of calmness and shutting the door behind him, then walking over to his closet to hang his jacket on the knob of the door again. He slipped his shoes off as well. 

Kenny looked up at him. “Hey,” He replied, smiling weakly. Much to Craig’s surprise, he didn’t ask him where he had been. “I’m just checking up on Karen,” He said, gesturing to his phone with his free hand.

When Kenny looked at him, Craig couldn't help but notice how  _awful_ he looked. His clothes were dirty, his hair was a tangled disaster, sticking up in all different directions, and thanks to the sad sort of lifelessness behind his eyes, and the dark circles under them, he just looked so unbelievably  _tired,_ and well...  _not at all like Kenny._  It was oddly distracting, and Craig had to try really hard not to stare so the other male didn't catch on. 

Craig cleared his throat awkwardly. “...How is she?” He asked, pretending that he hadn’t just seen Karen minutes ago. Hopefully Karen wouldn’t rat him out to Kenny.  

“She’s great,” Kenny replied, smiling half-heartedly again, but then his expression changed and he looked sad. “She’s doing just fine without me…” He trailed off, breaking eye contact with Craig.

“...I’m sure she misses you,” Craig replied softly, walking over to the bed and taking a seat on the edge of it.

Kenny let out a barely-audible sigh. “Yeah,” He said passively.

After that, Craig quickly made an effort to change the subject. “...So anyway, how are you feelin’? Any better?”

“I’m alright, I guess,” The blonde replied quietly. Craig could tell by the way he spoke that his mind was off somewhere else. He was distracted. “...My head really hurts, though,” Kenny added.

“Yeah I would fuckin’ think so after last night,” Craig responded with a small, forced laugh. “Do you want an Aspirin or something?”

“...Sure. Yeah,” Kenny replied absentmindedly with a nod, picking at a few loose threads sticking out of the bedsheet.

“You should probably eat something, too. Do you want me to make you a sandwich?” Craig asked, again beginning to feel more like Kenny’s babysitter than his… _friend?_ What even were they anymore, exactly?

“You don’t have to do that,” Kenny mumbled in response, and Craig rolled his eyes.

“Oh, shut up. You need to eat,” He said, standing up from the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

Craig headed downstairs yet again and went to the kitchen. The entire downstairs floor of the house was empty, except for him.  All of his family members had gone upstairs for the night. It was still a bit early for anyone to be asleep yet, but still he tried to be quiet, in case his mom or his sister happened to be asleep already. He knew that his dad couldn’t be, since he had just been downstairs only minutes ago.

Craig opened one of the many cabinets in the kitchen and took out a loaf of bread and some peanut butter, then grabbed a jar of jam out of the fridge, and a knife from the dish rack that he didn’t know for sure was clean or not, but hey, it _looked clean._ He took out two slices of bread and quickly and sloppily spread the peanut butter and jam on them, then tossed the dirty knife in the sink without even rinsing it off. He put everything he had taken out away then and headed back upstairs, not even bothering to put the poor excuse for a sandwich on a plate. He stopped by the bathroom on his way back to his room, grabbing the bottle of Aspirin out of the medicine cabinet.

When he returned to his bedroom, Kenny was still doing the same thing he had been doing when he left; pulling loose threads out of the sheet on the bed and staring off into space. “Here,” Craig said, walking over to the bed and handing Kenny the sandwich he’d made for him, then taking two pills out of the bottle of Aspirin and handing them to him as well. He set the bottle down on the nightstand and took a seat on the bed again.

Kenny looked up at him. “Thanks,” He mumbled before dry-swallowing the pills, and ignoring the sandwich for the time being. “...I’m uh, really sorry about pissing off your dad and stuff, by the way.”

Craig shrugged. “I’m not gonna say that it’s fine, but... he needs to learn to get the fuck over it anyway, honestly. Me having a boy in my bedroom isn’t gonna bring the world to an end.”  

“No, no, I was way out of line,” Kenny insisted, catching Craig a bit off-guard with the way he was so willing to take responsibility for his actions. “I shouldn’t have argued when you told me to leave. I’m sorry.” He paused, hesitating before he spoke his next words. “I just… I feel safe here, with you, I guess,” He mumbled quietly, breaking eye contact with Craig again. “I know that sounds stupid, but, whatever.”  

Craig sighed, not really sure what to say. “Kenny…”

“I’ll leave after tonight, though,” Kenny said, before Craig could say anything else. “I promise.”

“...Are you gonna be alright on your own?” Craig asked him, not at all convinced that he would be.  While he didn’t want to encourage Kenny to stay at his home any longer than absolutely necessary, or question it too much if Kenny was finally deciding to leave him alone, it wasn’t like him to be so cooperative, and at this point, Craig saw it as more of a warning sign than progress being made. He couldn't help but be a little suspicious.

Kenny shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” He replied in the same flat, monotone voice he'd been using all day. “I’ve caused so much damage and I just… want this all to be over.” He looked up at Craig again. “I know I can’t fix or undo all the shit I did to you, so the least I can do is… y’know… get out of your way.”

Hearing those words leave Kenny’s mouth should have been relieving to Craig— the idea of this all being over soon should have left him feeling hopeful again for the first time in months. But instead, he found Kenny’s words to be somewhat worrisome. Because Craig knew by now that it couldn't possibly be that easy; that _simple._ Everything had to be complicated when it came to the two of them. _Someone always got hurt._ But for now, Craig was deciding to take this one day at a time. If Kenny still wanted to leave tomorrow, they would talk about it tomorrow.

Having no idea how to respond to the words Kenny had just spoken, Craig just nodded slowly in acknowledgment before making another awkward attempt to change the subject of the conversation. “...You’d better eat that sandwich,” He said half-jokingly. Kenny still hadn't even taken one bite of it. “I spent a whole thirty seconds making that for you.”

Kenny chuckled weakly. “Sorry. I’m just… not hungry, I guess.”

“Kenny, come on. Please just eat it,” Craig attempted to reason with him. “You’ll probably feel at least a _little_ bit better if you eat something. I mean, feeling like shit physically too probably isn't helping your emotional state very much.”

Kenny scoffed. “And what exactly is my _‘emotional state’?”_

 _“Bad,”_ Craig replied bluntly, then softened his tone when he saw Kenny frown. “Speaking of which… how much uh… do you remember from last night?” He decided to ask finally. Not knowing was bothering him so much.

Kenny, looking very uncomfortable, averted his gaze once again. “Well, I remember getting sick… and crying...and saying some things. Too many things, probably,” He replied awkwardly. “Look, can we please just forget that last night ever happened? I know I made a fucking fool of myself and I really just… don’t wanna talk about it. Like, ever.”

Craig frowned. “Kenny… it's okay, y’know. To have feelings sometimes. It doesn't make you weak,” He said reassuringly, not really sure where these words were coming from. “If you keep everything bottled up all the time it leads to, y’know, lashing out at people… and crashing cars… and binge drinking… and crying on my bathroom floor,” Craig chuckled softly. “I mean, not that I of all people can really lecture you on healthy coping mechanisms, but, there's more ways to deal with bad feelings. Ways that don't hurt you, or anyone else.” Craig felt like every time he opened his mouth lately, something almost painfully hypocritical came out. Surprisingly, Kenny didn't bother calling him out on it this time.

“Not for me there's not,” The blonde replied simply. “I take after my father in that one very unfortunate way.”

“Hey, no,” Craig said firmly, placing a hand on Kenny’s shoulder. “You’re not like him, and you don't _have_ to be.”

Kenny let out an agitated sigh. “Craig, stop it,” He said, pushing Craig’s hand off of him.

“Stop what?”

 _“Babying me,”_ He stated blankly. “If last night hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be treating me like this, and you know it.”

Craig blinked. “Kenny, I’m just trying to help y--”

“Yeah, well, stop doing that, too,” Kenny said in an almost _annoyed_ tone, cutting Craig off. “I mean... I fucking _destroyed_ your life. You should be _angry!_ And if I ask you for help, you should tell me to go fuck myself, because I don't _deserve_ your help!”

“...Is that what you _want?”_ Craig asked confusedly, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. Like every conversation they ever had seemed to do, this discussion was quickly escalating into an argument.

Kenny rolled his eyes. “No, of course not!”  He exclaimed, as if it should've been obvious— as if any of what he was saying was making _any_ kind of sense. “But that’s what I _deserve!_ How am I supposed to do the right thing and leave you alone when you keep letting me walk all over you?”

Craig couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was a little offended by Kenny’s lack of appreciation for everything he had done for him, but mostly, he was just shocked. _Had it really come to the point where Kenny was being more rational and displaying more common sense than him?_

“...Y’know what? Fine,” Craig conceded. “I’m sorry for actually giving a shit about you. Now can you please just eat the fucking sandwich I made for you and then we can go to sleep and not have to talk to eachother anymore?”

“Fine, whatever,” Kenny said passively, and then they sat in tense silence as Kenny forced himself to eat. When he finished, he laid back down in Craig’s bed and pulled the blanket up over his head. “Goodnight,” He muttered from under the covers.  

Craig sighed and stood up from the bed. “Goodnight, I guess,” He replied, looking down at the spot on the floor where his pillow and blanket still were from the night before. It was the most uncomfortable floor he'd ever had the displeasure of sleeping on, but he could stand to do it for another night, he guessed. So he turned the light off and laid down.

But after several minutes of quiet, Craig heard Kenny come out from underneath the blanket. And shortly thereafter, he spoke.

“...Craig?”

_"What?”_

More silence.

Craig groaned in annoyance when Kenny didn't say anything. “Kenny, _what do you want?”_

Kenny hesitated still, but eventually, he answered. “Do you… wanna sleep in the bed with me… maybe?” He spoke quietly and nervously. “Since, y’know, the floor is probably really uncomfortable, and--”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Do _you_ want me to come sleep in the bed with you?” He asked knowingly, cutting Kenny off.

“...Kinda. Maybe. A little,” The blonde mumbled in response.

And so Craig let out another exasperated sigh before getting up and joining Kenny in the bed again, not even bothering to pick up the pillow and blanket that were on the floor and put them away. He and Kenny shared a brief glance before Craig rolled over to lay on his side, facing away from the other male. And it was quiet again then. But a few moments later, Craig felt the mattress shift again, and before he could realize that Kenny was scooting closer to him, the other boy’s arms were wrapped around him.

“...I'm sorry,” Kenny mumbled, hugging Craig tightly— _very_ tightly, as if this were the last time he would ever see him. And Craig just let him do it.

Craig didn't know which incident in particular he was apologizing for, but still, he muttered back, “It's okay.” Even though it wasn't okay. Because it would comfort Kenny for now, and Craig was too exhausted to deal with the aftermath of doing or saying something that might upset him again. He just wanted to sleep.

So he closed his eyes, and tried his best to ignore the fact that Kenny was silently sobbing into the back of his t-shirt.

 

* * *

 

Craig didn’t know what it was that caused him to wake up again later that night. But the moment he did, he was overcome with an awful, _nagging_ feeling that something was _terribly_ wrong. And it only worsened when he glanced over his shoulder to find that Kenny was no longer by his side.

He looked around the room, making sure the other male hadn’t just decided in the middle of the night to sleep on the floor. But although it was extremely dark in his room, and Craig’s eyes hadn’t yet fully adjusted to the darkness, he was rather certain that Kenny was not in the room with him. He reached over to his nightstand and felt around for his phone, and when he located it, he brought it up to his face. The light from the screen was almost bright enough to be blinding, but he managed to read the time; 3:21 a.m.

Craig locked his phone again, but kept it in his hand as he pushed his blanket aside and got up out of his bed. And as he made his way towards the door, he noticed that Kenny’s orange parka was still hanging on the knob. He was careful to make sure that it didn’t fall onto the floor as he reached for the knob and turned it, then stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him again.

Craig checked every single room of the house. Kenny was nowhere to be found. And the weird feeling that something was off was now transitioning into legitimate panic as he unlocked his phone again and quickly dialed Kenny’s phone number, heartbeat picking up pace as he brought the phone up to his ear. _God dammit,_ He thought to himself. _I_ _was supposed to be watching him._

His heart began to beat even faster when Kenny didn’t pick up.

He dialed again.

No answer.

He dialed _again._

_No answer._

He dialed _again._

This time, after several rings, Kenny accepted his call. But there was absolute silence on the other line. Kenny didn’t say a word.

“...Kenny?” Craig spoke into the phone, voice shaking a bit. “Where did you go?”

 _“Home,_ likeyou... _wanted_ me to, _”_ Kenny spoke, finally. His voice sounded similar to the way it had the night before; slurred and disoriented. “Stop...calling me…” He trailed off, and the undeniable trace of _weakness_ in the other male’s voice led Craig to believe that he hadn’t simply gotten drunk again— _this was different._   

“...Are you alright?” Craig asked hesitantly.

No response.

 _"Kenny,”_ Craig spoke again, after several moments of silence.

“Hm?”

“I said _are you alright.”_

“Mhm,” Kenny mumbled in response. “Everything… ‘sfine…” He slurred.

“Kenny,” Craig said firmly, his heart _pounding_ with anxiety now, “... _What did you do?”_ He demanded.

Kenny didn’t answer his question. “Byyyye, Craig,” He slurred. And then the line went dead.

Craig _immediately_ attempted to call him back. But it was no use. He called back twice, and Kenny didn’t pick up again.  

In a state of absolute panic, Craig rushed back to his bedroom, not caring if he woke up any of his family members as he ran up the stairs. When he got back to his room, he slipped on his shoes and jacket as quickly as he could, shoving his phone into his pocket as he then ran back downstairs and out the front door of his house without a moment’s hesitation. He sprinted down the street towards Kenny’s house as fast as his legs would allow him to move, almost slipping and falling on a patch of ice on the sidewalk at one point, mind flooding with images of all the awful scenarios that he could potentially walk in on when he got there.

He made it to Kenny’s house in about three minutes, panting and struggling to catch his breath as he made his way up to the front door. He began pounding on the door with his fist.

“Kenny!” He yelled, breathing still heavy and uneven. “Let me in!”

After about a minute of pounding on the door with no answer, Craig decided to try letting himself in. He reached for the doorknob and turned it, and much to his surprise, it was unlocked. _Maybe he should’ve tried that first._ He wasn’t exactly able to think straight at this point, though.   

He entered the house and immediately rushed to Kenny’s bedroom, almost wanting to close his eyes because he was so terrified of what he might see. But when he reached Kenny’s room, he was disappointed and rather alarmed to find that Kenny wasn’t there. But there was something else in the room that _did_ catch his eye— _the three empty pill bottles that were on Kenny’s bed._ And Craig’s heart _dropped_ when he saw them.

He walked over to the bed and picked up one of the bottles, examining it more closely. It was an orange prescription bottle— but the label was so old and worn that he couldn’t make out what the name of it was. The other two bottles appeared to be some kind of over-the-counter medications that could be purchased at a drugstore.  

 _“Shit,”_ Craig said under his breath, dropping the empty pill bottle back on the bed. “Kenny!” He called out again. And again, his words were only met with silence. Eerie, dead silence.

The sight of the empty pill bottles told Craig that he should check the bathroom next, so that’s where he went. He left Kenny’s bedroom and made his way down the hallway, headed towards the wide-open bathroom door, heart still pounding so hard that he felt like he might pass out any second. This might have been the most terrified he had ever felt in his entire life.

He took a deep breath before taking the final few steps towards the bathroom. “...Kenny?” He repeated again, much more quietly this time. And when he reached the doorway and looked into the room, only one of the things that he was seeing registered to him immediately;

Blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. This fic is so unnecessarily dramatic, I apologize.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright so here's the deal  
> 1\. HI. Wow. Welcome back to the angst fic from hell. It's been,,,,, so fucking long since I updated this. I am SO sorry. What the fuck.  
> 2\. I gotta be honest, I don't feel so great about this chapter. Like, I actually hate it so much that I kinda don’t want anyone to read it but here I am posting it anyway lmao. Basically, I was stuck on this chapter for months, and after not updating for so long I decided to cut out the part that I was still struggling with and put it in the next chapter instead. That way I get more time to figure shit out, but you guys still get some kind of update. So yeah. Most of this chapter was written several months ago, so I'm sorry if it's not the best. I just kinda said fuck it and decided to post what I had done, because I knew that if I tried to re-write it I would just get stuck again.  
> 3\. !!!!!!!! This chapter deals with a suicide attempt so if you're extra sensitive to that sort of thing then please be wary !!!!!!  
> 4\. Thank you guys for being patient with me, again I'm sorry for not updating for so long. The last two chapters will probably take me a while to finish too if I'm being honest, but hopefully they'll be better and worth the wait.

“Oh my god,” Craig gasped, bringing a hand up to his mouth. The scene in front of him was a horrific one.

Kenny was sprawled out on the bathroom floor— eyes closed, and blood smeared all over both of his wrists, which had been slashed in every direction; with what, Craig didn’t know. There was blood all over the floor as well.

“Oh my god, Kenny...” Craig repeated. The feelings of sheer panic, shock, and _dread_ that washed over him the moment he saw Kenny were not in any way comparable to any other emotion that he had ever experienced before in his life— not even the way he'd felt dealing with the aftermath of Tweek’s accidental overdose in eighth grade. No, this was so much worse in every possible way.

Craig frantically rushed to Kenny’s side and knelt down on the floor next to him. _“Kenny,_ _hey, wake up,”_ Craig said, shaking him, in a desperate attempt to get him to open his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do in a situation like this, but making sure that Kenny wasn’t _dead_ was definitely his top priority.

Kenny opened his eyes just barely when Craig shook him, mumbling a half-incoherent response. “...Craig?” He spoke, rubbing his eyes. “Wh...why did you..comehere…?”

Craig let out a sigh of temporary relief. _He wasn’t too late._ “Kenny, what the _fuck! How long have you been laying here?! What did you take?!”_ He demanded, and Kenny closed his eyes again, not giving him a response, which prompted Craig to shake him awake again. “Ken, you gotta stay awake. _Please.”_

Kenny looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “...No…” He murmured, shaking his head. “... _No!”_ He repeated, tone of voice growing more frustrated. “This wasn't s’pposed t’ _happen…”_ He continued ranting sleepily in his drug-induced haze. “You weren't supposed t’... _find me…_ this wasgonna... _fix_ everything…” There were tears forming in his eyes, but he closed them again.

“Kenny, _keep your eyes open,”_ Craig snapped, tone of voice still panicked and frantic. But Kenny didn't listen.

“...Please j’st leave, Craig,” he mumbled back, voice barely above a whisper. “Please… I don'twanna… hurt people anymore… _I_ don't wanna hurt anymore... ‘m so tired...”

“God dammit, Kenny, _”_ Craig muttered sharply under his breath before reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out his phone. His mind and heart were both racing so fast, he’d almost forgotten the first thing you’re supposed to do in an emergency— call 9-1-1. _“Shit shit shit shit shit,”_ He muttered repeatedly. He didn’t realize that his hands were trembling so much until his phone fell from his hands and onto the floor. He picked it up, trying desperately to calm himself down enough to dial 9-1-1 without dropping it again. He managed to do so and brought the phone up to his ear then, and waited for someone to take his call. It only rang for a few seconds, but Craig didn’t know how much time he _had,_ and it felt like _forever._

 _“Craig don’t--_ don’t call…” He heard Kenny utter in protest.

“I _have to,_ Kenny,” He replied apologetically just before a dispatcher answered his call.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” The dispatcher spoke.

Craig did his best to describe the situation in his panicked state, tears pricking at his eyes. “Y-yeah, um, my friend took a bunch of pills and cut his wrists up pretty badly-- he’s really out of it but he's awake--”

“Craig…stop…” Kenny pleaded weakly, attempting to reach for Craig’s phone.

Craig ignored him, moving the phone up out of his reach and putting it on speakerphone so he could still hear. He was thankful that Kenny was too weak to _physically_ fight him any more than he currently was, but still awake and alert enough to argue with him, at least to some extent.

“Okay, can you tell me _what_ he took?” The woman asked.

“Craig… hang up thephone--!” Kenny begged, even louder. And still, Craig ignored his pleas, though it took absolutely everything in him to do so.   

“I--I don't know--” Craig replied to the woman quickly, voice shaking. He would have gone back to Kenny’s room to get the bottles, but he didn’t want to leave Kenny alone even for a second. Who knows what he might do. “One of them was some kind of old prescription but the label was worn off, and the other two bottles were like-- painkillers, or something, fuck, I don't know--”

“Sir, please try to remain calm,” The woman said in a tone of voice that was probably meant to be comforting, but all it really did was irritate Craig, because how the _fuck_ was he supposed to be calm in a situation like this? “I'm gonna have you give the bottles to the paramedics when they arrive, okay? Can you do that?”

“Craig, stop!” Kenny yelled. His voice was hoarse and ugly and desperate, and there were tears streaming down his face now. “I don't want them to come here!”

“Okay. Yeah.” Craig agreed, still not acknowledging Kenny’s pleas. A few tears threatened to spill from his eyes as well, but he wiped them away before they could.

The woman asked for his name and location then, and he gave her Kenny’s address. Shortly afterwards, she informed him that help was on the way, and in the meantime, he should make sure to keep Kenny awake, and try to stop his wrists from bleeding, or at least try to slow the bleeding down. Craig wished he could have been more helpful in providing information, but he had no idea what the _fuck_ Kenny had taken, or how much of whatever it was had been left in the bottles when he did.

After Craig was instructed to hang up by the dispatcher, he was still on the verge of tears and he felt like he couldn't breathe, but still he shoved his phone back into his pocket and then began to search Kenny’s bathroom for a towel, or a rag, or _something._ “I don't suppose you wanna tell me where I can find something to clean your arms off with,” He muttered, sniffling and wiping more tears away before looking back over at Kenny.

Kenny shook his head stubbornly and squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he continued to cry, and Craig just sighed, resuming his search for something that he could use to stop the bleeding. Every second that passed, he grew more anxious and overwhelmed, but still he tried his best to keep himself together, because he knew that panicking would only make things worse, and there was no time to even attempt to process any of what he was feeling right now.

Eventually, Craig found a towel in the cabinet under the sink, and he didn’t know if it was clean, but it would have to do. He sniffled a couple times and took a few deep breaths then before standing up and turning the sink on, running the towel under the water to dampen it, and then he knelt back down on the floor next to Kenny. “You’re gonna fight me every step of the way on this, aren't you?” He asked knowingly. He was slightly calmer now, despite the fact that he knew Kenny most likely didn't plan on making this easy for him in any way.

“...Fuck you..” Kenny spat tiredly. “...I hate you so much for this...”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Craig sighed again, trying his best not to take any of what Kenny was saying personally.

Craig sat down all the way on the floor then, preparing to make an attempt to move Kenny off of the dirty, blood-stained bathroom floor. He slid one hand under the other boy’s torso and the other, with which he was also holding onto the towel, under his neck. And despite Kenny’s squirming and several utterances of “let me go”, Craig was successful in moving him so that he was laying across his lap. He then gently grabbed ahold of one of Kenny’s wrists in order to get a closer look at the cuts— but his grip tightened when Kenny muttered a few unintelligible words of protest and made a few weak attempts to free his hands from Craig’s grasp.

“Kenny, _please,_ for the love of god, just sit still,” Craig pleaded with him. “This is _really_ fucking serious, okay? I can't fight with you right now. Now is the _worst_ possible time for you to be acting like this.”

“No--” Kenny protested, continuing to struggle. “I don’t want you to see--”

But he wasn’t strong enough to put up much of a fight, and Craig was able to keep a firm hold on his wrist as he proceeded to examine the cuts that littered it, and then the other one. And at some point, Kenny gave up and stopped fighting—at least for the moment—and laid still. Upon further inspection, the cuts didn’t appear to be extremely deep— deep enough to leave permanent scars, probably, but not quite deep enough to do any life-threatening damage. Not that Craig was really an expert on this sort of thing. Quite a few of the cuts _were_ still bleeding, but not uncontrollably. The pills were what he really needed to worry about.

“...Okay, you saw them...please stop looking now…” Kenny mumbled weakly, his voice cracking. “… I feel so fucking pathetic...”

And Craig wanted to stop staring at the open wounds that covered the other boy’s arms, but he found it nearly impossible to tear his gaze away from them. He had known that Kenny was hurting inside, but seeing it on the outside— first in the form of tears, and blank stares, and refusing to get out of bed— and now the empty pill bottles, and the _blood…_ it made it all so much more _real_ . _Too real._ The situation had escalated beyond what he had ever thought was possible. But like always, right when he dared to underestimate Kenny, and was convinced that things couldn't _possibly_ get any worse, he was proven wrong. So very wrong.

And then Craig felt slightly sick to his stomach when he realized that Tweek could just as easily end up in this scenario, considering what Clyde had told him over the phone two days ago. It wasn't fair— it seemed as though Craig most deserved to be the one suffering, with all of the irreversible damage he had managed to cause and/or enable in the recent months. But instead, he was cursed to watch, powerlessly, as the people who mattered the most to him suffered. The ones who didn’t deserve it nearly as much as he did— at least, not in his eyes. Not even Kenny.

_And maybe that was his punishment._

Craig struggled not to make any comments about the cuts as he quickly wrapped the towel around both of Kenny’s wrists as tightly as he could, and continued to apply pressure, doing his best to ignore the fact that his jacket was now stained with the other boy’s blood. Craig still couldn't help but wonder just how long Kenny had been there, lying on the floor all alone before Craig had woken up and called him. A person doesn't just overdose and immediately collapse on the floor in a dizzy, disoriented state— Craig at least knew _that_ much. Craig also wondered if he had been drinking again, or if the state he was in now was the work of the pills alone. But he knew Kenny wouldn’t tell him if he asked, so he didn’t.

“Kenny, _wake up,”_ Craig whispered harshly when he noticed that his eyes were closed again. Though there was really no point— Kenny had never listened to him before, and it certainly wasn't probable to assume that now of all times would be when he would decide to start doing so.

“Craig… why’re you doing this...” Kenny asked, opening his eyes just barely. “...I wanna die,” He added quietly, his voice cracking again as another tear rolled down his cheek. “...I can't fucking _do_ this anymore.”

Craig looked down at him then, and their eyes met. “Yeah, well, _I_ don’t want you to die,” He replied, honestly. “And I guess I’m too selfish to just walk outta here and pretend I didn't see you. So, too bad.”

“You're lying… you hate me…” Kenny mumbled accusingly, and Craig didn't want to keep arguing with him, especially because he would never be able to talk him into looking at things _rationally—after all, he had just tried to fucking kill himself—_ but he would do it as long as it would keep him awake and alert.

“Not enough to want you dead, Ken,” He said. He was telling the truth, but he had a feeling that Kenny wouldn’t believe him.

“You don't… get it, Craig,” Kenny argued back. “I'm such a fucking burden... to _everyone…I always have been._ And I did this so nobody would _ever_ have to bother dealing with me _ever again_ … because I've _seen_ how frustrated you get with me and I _hate it._ I _hate_ that I do that to people.” He sniffled. “And now the _opposite_ of what I was trying to do is happening... because you just _had_ to fucking show up here...”

Craig abruptly let go of Kenny’s arms then and took a deep breath, before reaching up to rub his temples. _God, Kenny really didn't realize how fucking insane and delusional he sounded sometimes._ “Kenny… can I ask you something?” Craig spoke.

“What?”

“What do you want from me?”

Kenny looked confused. “I don't want _anything_ from y--”

“Yeah, I know,” Craig cut him off. “That's what you keep saying. But you act like just because you tell me that you don't _want_ my help, means that you don't _need_ help, or that I'm not gonna still _worry_ about you. You dismissing me doesn't make me stop worrying that if _I'm_ not looking out for you, you're gonna fucking go off and do something _exactly_ like _this!”_ Kenny flinched at Craig’s words and Craig paused, realizing how loudly he was speaking and lowering his voice before continuing. “Why do you not get that? Do you just think that I have no conscience? Is that it? Because okay, I understand what might lead to believe that, but it's _not_ true. It’s _not_ easy for me to just _leave_ you, Kenny. It’s _not_ easy _at all.”_

“Stop yelling at me!” Kenny cried. “This is exactly what I'm talking about! I don't wanna do this to people anymore I just wanna die!”

“You don't know what you want, you're crazy!” Craig yelled back. It probably wasn't the best thing to say in this situation— probably the worst thing to say, actually— but Craig really hadn’t meant to _hurt_ Kenny by saying it. It was times like this when Craig wished his first instinct wasn't always to be so damn blunt when getting his point across— why couldn't he be gentle and empathetic?

“Stop it!” Kenny pleaded, but Craig had more say. He couldn't hold himself back anymore at this point.

“Kenny, look at where you are right now!” He scoffed. “Do sane people do shit like this?! When I tell you to leave me alone it doesn't mean you should go and off yourself, you fucking psycho!”

And then, of course, Craig felt like a complete jackass when he saw how hurt Kenny looked before he buried his face in his hands and proceeded to sob even harder. “I'm sorry, Craig, okay?” He said, the words muffled. “...I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say.”

Craig just sighed in response. There were so many things that he wanted to say to Kenny, but the words just didn’t want to come out. They _refused_ to. He wanted to tell Kenny that it hurt him to see him hurting. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t mean to be so blunt all the time, and he only got so frustrated with him because he cared about him— _because he didn’t know how to help him._ He wanted to hug him and tell him that everything would be okay. But he just… _didn’t know how._ He didn’t know how to say those things in a way that wasn’t, well… _mean— a way that hid the fact that he actually cared enough to say those things._ And he didn’t know _why._ Hell, he still didn’t even know why he so desperately _wanted_ to help Kenny. It didn’t make any _sense. Nothing_ Craig had done since Kenny had come into his life made even the _slightest_ bit of sense. But he had done every single one of those things anyway, and at this point, Craig didn’t think he would ever be able to understand it.

And maybe he would never be able to understand his weird, unhealthy, downright fucked up feelings for Kenny either.

After a few moments of silence on his end, Craig cleared his throat awkwardly before opening his mouth to speak again. “...I’m sorry I yelled at you,” was all he could manage, and Kenny scoffed quietly, not bothering to utter a response. Craig didn't say anything else after that— just silently used one hand to run his fingers through Kenny’s hair in a soothing manner— it was tangled and greasy, but he didn't really care that much.

It was quiet then. It couldn't have been more than two or three more minutes before Craig heard sirens outside, but it felt like _hours_ as he sat there helplessly, waiting for the paramedics to arrive, the feelings of intense panic in his chest never subsiding even for a moment. He was good at hiding it, but he was genuinely worried that they might not be able to help Kenny. He didn't really have a good read on the severity of the situation.

When Kenny heard the sirens, his eyes flickered open again— but it looked as though he was really struggling to _keep_ them open. “Craig… I don't-- wanna go t’ the hospital…” He mumbled, the sound of sirens outside getting closer and closer. Some of the neighbors were probably waking up and rushing to their windows now, trying to figure out which house the emergency vehicles were headed towards, so they could gossip about it in the halls of the school, or the isles of the grocery store the next day. “They'regonna lock me up...”

“They’re gonna help you, Kenny,” Craig said reassuringly. He didn’t wanna lie to Kenny in order to make him feel less afraid for the time being— _they were definitely gonna lock him up._ But maybe that was what he _needed._ God knows Craig alone couldn’t give him whatever kind of help it was that he needed, no matter how much he wished that he could.

“I don’t… want help…” Kenny replied. And Craig couldn't _believe_ how much he wished that he could make it all stop for him— how much he wished that Kenny didn't have to feel this way; so hopeless and tired and just _done_ with everything. _God dammit, why did he care so much?_

That was the last thing Kenny said before the front door of the house opened, and his breathing immediately sped up as one of his hands grabbed ahold of Craig’s wrist, gripping it so tightly that he was probably cutting off Craig’s circulation. _He was panicking._

“We’re in here!” Craig yelled quickly before turning his attention back to Kenny. “Kenny, it's gonna be okay,” He said softly. He could hear footsteps approaching the room. “You gotta calm down or else this is gonna be a lot worse for you.”

“No--” Kenny shook his head frantically, tears streaming down his face again. “I don't want their help-- I don’t want them to touch me, Craig, please--”

Craig shot him a sympathetic look— that was all he could do. He knew that Kenny didn't want to be helped right now; but he also knew that Kenny was in a state that was anything but rational, and later, he would thank him for this.

_Well, he could only hope that that was the case._

Craig didn't have any more time to worry about whether or not Kenny would resent him for the rest of his life, though, because just as Kenny finished speaking, two police officers and three paramedics appeared in the doorway.

They all filed into the room, and suddenly it was so suffocatingly crowded in that tiny bathroom, and though Craig was feeling extremely overwhelmed himself, he couldn't even begin to imagine how much worse Kenny must've felt— how _scared_ and _vulnerable_ he must be feeling. But the way Kenny desperately tried to cling to him when he attempted to move away from him so the paramedics could tend to him gave him a small idea of just how panicked he was.

“What’d he take?” One of the paramedics asked, dropping her duffle bag of supplies on the ground.

“I-- I don't know, but the bottles are on the bed in his room,” Craig replied. His voice came out timid and shaky.

“Where is that?” A man asked from somewhere else in the room. This was all happening so fast, Craig wasn't really sure which person exactly the voice had come from.

“Uh-- down the hall, to the left,” Craig answered, and then one of the other paramedics was rushing out of the room and down the hallway.

The woman knelt down on the floor and began removing some kind of supplies from her bag, then attempted to approach Kenny— and that's when he got difficult.  

 _“Don't touch me,”_ He said in a somewhat threatening tone, attempting to wriggle out of the woman’s reach as his grip on Craig’s wrist tightened even more— if that was even possible.

“I need you to lay still,” The woman attempted to proceed again, but Kenny wasn't having it. He did the exact opposite of lay still, fighting the woman off by swatting and kicking at her weakly with what little energy he had left until she backed off again, despite Craig’s rather pathetic attempts to keep him restrained.

And then they were at a standstill.

Craig looked up at the various emergency personnel in the room, silently asking them _“what should I do?”_ with his eyes. The male paramedic that had left the room earlier had returned now, the three empty pill bottles from Kenny’s bed in his hands. Craig had been so distracted by the chaos, he hadn't seen him enter the room again. The paramedics continued to try to intervene, but it was nearly impossible for them to make any kind of progress with Kenny fighting them every step of the way, and refusing to move from Craig’s lap. One of the police officers finally spoke up as the paramedics continued to try to get Kenny’s vitals, which was taking about five times longer than it should have.

“What’s his name?” He asked, looking over at Craig.  

“It's Kenny,” Craig replied quickly. He felt so helpless and small.

The officer knelt down on the floor then, looking down at Kenny. But Kenny didn't look at him. “Kenny, son, you're gonna have to let your friend here go so these people can help you and we can ask him some questions, alright?” He spoke calmly and firmly. “Can you do that?”

 _"No,”_ Kenny replied instantly, not even giving the possibility of cooperating a moment’s thought.

“Alright, well, here's the deal,” The officer started again. “We’re gonna have to restrain you if don't cooperate with us, Kenny, because we don't exactly have all night to argue with you like this. We need to get you to the hospital.” Kenny’s eye widened significantly when the word ‘restrain’ was brought into the conversation. “So what's it gonna be?”

Kenny didn't provide an answer. But he did say something back.

“...I feel sick,” He mumbled, his grip on Craig’s wrist loosening slightly.

The police officer nodded. “That's probably because of all the pills you took,” He stated, indifferently. There was no emotion behind his voice— this was probably nothing more than just another call to him. It was simply the kind of thing he dealt with on a daily basis. “And the longer we have to wait around here, the less likely it is that we’re gonna be able to help you.”

“I never even... _asked_ for help,” Kenny replied stubbornly. His voice was beginning to sound weak and tired again. The state of alertness he had snapped into earlier out of panic was slowly fading away.

“Kid. Listen. You're not getting out of this,” The officer continued trying to reason with Kenny, who still refused to sit still, despite how tired he was. _“_ We _have_ to take you in, because you tried to hurt yourself. It's the law. So you really don't have a lot of options here--”

“I'm not going to the fucking hospital!” Kenny spat, and the officer just sighed.

“We need to get a blood sample and start an IV, we’re gonna have to restrain him,” The woman paramedic spoke up again, and that's when Craig decided to intervene.

“Okay, wait--” Craig sighed. “Can I just-- can you just let me try to talk to him?”

“We don't have time for that.”

 _“Please,”_ Craig begged. He figured that maybe he could distract Kenny enough so that the paramedics could do their job without having to fully restrain him. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Just… do whatever you need to do and I'll talk to him and try to keep him still.”

“...’M not deaf, Craig,” Kenny chimed in weakly. Craig could only imagine how much he hated being so powerless in this situation— not having any kind of say in what would happen to him, no matter how much he tried to delay it by fighting.

“Kenny, I just wanna do anything I can to make this easier on you, okay? That’s all I'm trying do,” Craig replied before turning back to the woman he had been talking to. “Can I please just try?”

“...Fine,” She agreed, somewhat reluctantly. “But only because I think we’ll be able to treat him faster that way. If he tries to hit any of us one more time though, that's it. We can't afford to waste any more time.”

Craig nodded “Thank you,” He said before directing his attention back to Kenny, who didn't look very happy with him to say the least.

The paramedics resumed treating him then— but the moment one of them brought out a needle, he was quick to struggle again. “What are you doing with that?” He asked in a panicked tone, attempting to grab the woman’s arm.

Craig quickly grabbed ahold of both of his wrists and held his arms down. The towel that Craig had used before to clean up his wrists had been tossed aside onto the floor somewhere. “Kenny. Hey. Look at me,” He said softly as Kenny attempted to break free. “Don't pay attention to what they're doing. Just look at me. You said you like my eyes, right? Look at them.”

“Craig, stop-- you're hurting me--” Kenny winced, still not making eye contact.

“I’m not gonna let go of you until you stop fighting,” Craig replied sternly. “Listen to me. I know you're pissed at me right now, but don't take it out on them. They're just trying to do their jobs. Please. You _have_ to let them help you.” Craig was pretty much just begging him to cooperate at this point.

“I wouldn't if you hadn't fucking called them!” Kenny exclaimed, then winced again as he felt a needle go into his arm.

“See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” Craig said encouragingly. “You're doing great.”

“I don't wanna be doing great, I wanna fucking bleed out on this floor and die,” Kenny spat back dramatically.

“Kenny…” Craig sighed. Again, there were so many things he wanted to say that he just didn’t know how to. But he knew that he had to at least _try._ “...Listen,” He continued. “I know you're hurting, okay? I understand that. And I know that you don’t _want_ to hurt anymore. And you shouldn’t have to. It’s not fair.” He paused, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “...But _please,_ Kenny. _Think of Karen._ Think of what a _shitty_ situation you're leaving her in if you die. Think of Bebe having to tell her that her other brother abandoned her too. If you won't take the help for yourself, or for me, then _at least_ do it for Karen. _Please,_ Kenny.”

Craig didn't feel entirely right about using guilt as a means to get Kenny to cooperate, but it was the only thing he could think to do. He was desperate.

Kenny didn’t say anything for awhile after that— just stared up at Craig, his expression similar to the one that had been displayed on his face right before Kenny told him that they shouldn’t kiss on the lips anymore... and again on the night that Craig had attempted to comfort him as he drunkenly sobbed on his bathroom floor. Craig didn’t know what it was— but whatever it was, whatever emotion was behind it, it seemed to have changed his mind.

“...God, you’re right,” Kenny sighed. “You’re right.”

Craig had gotten through to him.

Craig nodded. “Now, if I let go of you, are you gonna stay still and let these people help you?” He asked calmly, still maintaining direct eye contact with Kenny.

Still, Kenny was a bit hesitant to comply. But even someone as irrational as Kenny was could realize when they were outnumbered. There was no possible way for him to get out of this situation with Craig holding him down, and with three paramedics and two police officers in the room.  “...Yeah. Okay,” He surrendered with a small nod.

“Thank you, Kenny, thank you,” Craig said, sighing in relief. Then, impulsively, he moved his hands from Kenny’s wrists up to his face and gently pressed his lips to Kenny’s, and he felt the other boy’s entire body relax ever-so-slightly when he did so. The kiss was very brief, and Kenny didn’t respond much to it, but when Craig pulled away, he could tell by the look on Kenny’s face that he was so much more at ease than he had been just moments ago. His lips might’ve even formed into something that vaguely resembled a very faint smile.

Afterwards, as Craig moved away from Kenny and got up off of the floor, he realized that kissing him had probably been an extremely inappropriate thing to do at the time. Not only that, but it had also most likely sent the entirely wrong message as well. He didn’t really know why he had done it— _he had broken their rule._ But he couldn’t take it back now.

Not even thirty seconds after finally getting Kenny to cooperate, one of the several police officers in the room motioned for Craig to join him in the hallway so he could ask him some questions. And Craig did as he was asked and stepped out into the hallway, making sure to stand somewhere where he could still keep an eye on Kenny as he talked. He still didn’t trust him entirely.

“Alright, so, what was your name again?” The officer asked him, once they were out of the room.

“Craig Tucker,” Craig replied nervously.

The officer reached into his pocket then and pulled out a tiny notepad and a pen. He wrote down Craig’s name before asking his next question. “And what’s your relationship to the patient?”

Ah, there it was. The question that neither of them ever knew how to answer. “He’s… a friend of mine. We go to school together,” Craig answered, even though they weren’t really friends, and neither of them ever went to school anymore.

“Okay,” The officer nodded, kind of looking like he didn’t really believe Craig. But that was to be expected, after he had just kissed Kenny on the lips in front of everyone and all. “You guys go to South Park High?” He asked.

“Yeah, we’re seniors,” Craig nodded, watching as he scribbled down the name of their school.

“And he’s...seventeen? Eighteen?” The officer asked.

“Seventeen.”

“Do you know of any way we could get ahold of either of his parents?”  

Craig let out a somewhat uncomfortable-sounding sigh. Somehow it hadn’t even crossed his mind that Kenny’s parents would need to be notified about this. And then he felt guilty, even though he knew full well that he had still done the right thing by calling someone. “Uh… no, I don’t,” He said to the officer, looking down at the ground, and then back over at Kenny. The paramedics were in the process of inserting an IV. “...Kenny might have a phone number for them that you can try, but I wouldn’t count on either of them picking up.”

The officer raised an eyebrow at that. “Are they not around a lot?” He asked, scribbling more notes down.

Craig cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh… I’m not really the right person to be asking about that. I don’t know the situation very well,” He lied. He didn’t feel that it was his place to inform anyone of the rather depressing details of Kenny’s home situation without talking to him about it first— obviously there was a good reason he hadn’t gotten Child Protective Service involved ages ago. Sometimes it was just safer to lie. And Craig definitely didn’t want to risk making this situation any worse than it already was— not that anyone expected any less than that from him at this point.

“Alright,” The cop said dismissively. Craig was such a terrible liar, he couldn’t imagine that the police officer believed that any of what he was saying was credible at this point, with him making it so obvious that he had something to hide. But still, he continued to question him.”Does anybody else live here other than him and his parents?”

“Yeah. He has a younger sister, Karen,” Craig replied.

“And how old is she?”

“Um… she's around thirteen, I think. But I’m not sure.”

The officer nodded again as he continued to take notes. “Alright. Just one more question, for now, and then I’ll let you go; do you know if Kenny has a history of mental illness or if he’s done anything like this to hurt himself in the past? Or if he’s hurt anyone else?”

Had the situation not been so serious, Craig might’ve laughed.

“Uh…” He trailed off. He could probably think of about a hundred examples that proved that Kenny wasn’t mentally healthy, but talking about Kenny like there was something wrong with him always made him feel awful. “I mean...” He stalled, looking over at Kenny again— he was being lifted up onto a gurney now. “...Yeah,” He said, finally, forcing himself to look away from Kenny and back at the police officer. “Yeah, he’s definitely not well.”

Craig hoped that the officer wouldn’t ask him to be more specific, because recalling those events made _him_ go crazy— the officer looked like he was about to, but luckily, they were interrupted by Kenny, who was being wheeled out of the room by the paramedics. He was strapped down to the gurney, but his hands were free. “Craig,” He said quietly when they reached the doorway, and Craig quickly turned his attention to him, though he found it extremely difficult to look him directly in the eyes—he looked so broken. “...I’m sorry,” Kenny said after a long pause, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Craig didn’t say anything— just grabbed ahold of one of his hands and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He turned to one of the paramedics then. “You’re taking him to Hell’s Pass, right?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Craig turned back towards Kenny. “Alright, I’m probably gonna call Bebe and ask her for a ride there so I’ll be there in a little bit, okay?”

Kenny didn't say anything, just forced a rather sad-looking half smile and nodded, and Craig could tell that he wasn't too thrilled about the idea of him having to tell Bebe about what happened.

“I can give you a ride there, if you want,” The police officer that had been questioning him spoke up as Craig let go of Kenny’s hand, and the paramedics resumed wheeling him down the hallway and towards the front door of the house. “It would be faster”

Craig didn’t want to be rude, or seem like he didn't care enough to get to the hospital as quickly as possible, but he had been on the verge of tears since he’d found Kenny, and he desperately needed a moment alone before he could even think about stepping foot in a hospital. “Ah… no, that’s okay,” He replied politely. “I was gonna call her anyway.”

“Alright, if you insist,” The officer shrugged.

The chaos was coming to a close now. The paramedics had gathered their equipment and successfully loaded Kenny into the ambulance, and the police officers were talking into their radios and jotting down final notes and getting back into their cars. And Craig continued to stand in the doorway. He couldn't tell if it was the bitter, frigid wind blowing against his face that was causing his eyes to water, or if it was the feeling that washed over him as the ambulance took off down the street towards the hospital, sirens blaring, and Kenny inside. Craig continued to watch, even after the ambulance was out of his line of sight. He stood and listened as the sound of sirens got farther and farther away, until he couldn't hear them anymore, and the police officers had driven off as well. He waited until he was completely alone. And then he went back inside.

He made his way back to the bathroom, and the first thing he noticed was that nobody had bothered to clean up. There was still blood on the floor, along with some bandages and other random medical equipment. Craig stared at the spot on the floor where Kenny had been lying when he’d first found him. He felt sick, and there were tears threatening to spill from his eyes again. And he let them. He sat down on the floor, up against the wall. And he allowed himself to break down.

Breaking down wasn’t a new concept to him— but this time around, it didn’t feel the same as all the others. He wasn’t sobbing and shaking and gasping for air because he felt sorry for himself. No. It wasn’t about _him_ this time. It was about _Kenny._

 _He was breaking down because cared so fucking much about Kenny._ So much that it was overwhelming. Paralyzing. _Suffocating._ And although he knew exactly _how_ he had managed to let things get so out of control, being so painfully aware of every single event that had lead up to this point, somehow, he still couldn’t believe it. _Nothing felt real anymore._

After a few minutes, he managed to stop crying for long enough to take out his phone and dial Bebe’s number. After everything that had just happened, he needed her more than anything— she was so much better at handling things like this.

“Craig?” Bebe picked up, after several rings.

“Hey… did I wake you up?” Craig sniffled.

“Yeah, but it’s fine,” Bebe replied sleepily. “...Wait, are you crying? What’s going on?” She asked after a brief moment of silence, more urgency in her tone now.  

Craig sighed, wiping away more tears. “Can you just… can you come to Kenny’s house please?” He replied, his voice cracking slightly. “...And bring your car,” He added.

“Why?” Bebe asked nervously. “Is everything okay?”

“No--” Craig answered. He was sobbing again at this point. “I need a ride-- to the hospital--”

 _"What?_ Why? What happened?” Bebe asked frantically. She sounded much more awake now.  

“Can you just come over here please--” Craig begged. “I took care of everything but I’m just so overwhelmed right now and I don't wanna talk about it over the phone please Bebe I really need you here right now--” He said, all in one breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Bebe said in a reassuring, yet still slightly panicked tone. “I'll be right there.”

“Thank you,” Craig murmured before hanging up.

When Bebe arrived several minutes later, he was still a crying mess on the floor. He attempted to pull himself together when he heard her car door open and close outside, because he hated crying in front of people more than anything, but it was no use.

“Craig?” He heard Bebe whisper-yell from the front door before closing it.

“I'm in the bathroom,” He yelled back weakly, and then he heard footsteps approaching.

“Oh my god,” She said when she found Craig, immediately noticing the blood on the bathroom floor. She didn't have to ask whose it was. “...Is he okay?”

“I don't-- I don't really know, I mean, I think he's gonna be okay-- they took him to the hospital--”

Bebe knelt down on the floor next to Craig and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Craig, calm down, okay?” She spoke in a quiet, comforting tone. “Can you please tell me what happened?”

Craig took a deep breath and kept his eyes fixated on the floor. “He took a shit ton of pills… and cut himself… a lot…” He mumbled before finally looking up at Bebe. “I should’ve been watching him better, I’m so sorry, I--”

Bebe cut him off by pulling him into a tight hug. And Craig didn't realize until that moment how much he’d _desperately_ needed a hug.  

“It's not your fault,” Bebe said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so dramatic and I am so embarrassed


End file.
